Don't Let Me Down
by cakebythepound
Summary: "To love at all is to be vulnerable." – CS Lewis. It takes a series of unfortunate events for Rick and Michonne to understand exactly what that means. (Richonne. Timeframe: S4 – S5. Warnings: Sex, Violence, Maybe some drugs. ...But probably not any drugs.)
1. Stay With Me

**1 - Stay With Me**

A weight lifted from his shoulders the second he heard her whistle. She was back. She was safe. She was alive.

He immediately stood from his crouched position, where he had been listening to Hershel's sermon on effectively nurturing plants. _Things break, but they can still grow_ is what he'd said, just before Rick's attention was snatched away.

Rick turned for his son, his adolescent face relaying that he heard the sound too, and was just as excited as his father that their friend had made it back home. "Let's go," he directed Carl towards the front of the prison yard, where they would open the gates for her.

It took a concerted effort every time, but they were able to release the doors, allowing Michonne to gallantly ride through on horseback. She looked happy to return to what was now her home. And generally speaking, she was. She had been gone for a month, and the time away had taken its toll on both her body and her spirit. She needed to see her boys again. Her unspoken wish was granted as she hopped off her horse to find their smiling faces running towards her.

"Glad to see you," was Rick's greeting to her. He never really knew what to say when she returned from these trips, so he tended to keep it simple and honest. He was glad to see her.

"Glad to see you too," she answered, making sure to look him in the eye. It sounded flirtatious, but she meant it genuinely. She turned for the younger Grimes, who had taken to her horse, and grabbed the stash of comic books she collected for him out on the road. "Somebody hit the jackpot," she grinned, handing over his gift.

"No way!" Carl's baby blue eyes scanned the books as a smile took over his face. "Awesome! Thank you."

"I get to read 'em when you're done," she winked, amused by his excitement. She grabbed the other souvenir she'd found for his father, and handed it over. "And I found this," she told him, presenting him with an electric razor. She watched him accept with confusion and then a smile. "Your face is losing the war," she offered jokingly.

He nodded at her antics, but he was more concerned with how much time they would have together. It was never much. "You gonna stay a little while?" He wasn't going to beg her, but he hoped his eyes relayed the fact that he really wanted her to.

"Just a little while," she quietly promised.

The two of them stood side by side as Daryl and his mini entourage came rolling down the driveway. He couldn't help but smirk at the two of them, standing there all awkward and clueless, but more than anything, he was happy to see Michonne in one piece.

"Didn't find him," she revealed in reference to her search for the bane of their existence, The Governor. "Thinking of looking over near Macon." She could see that Rick was obviously dismayed by this news, but Daryl didn't seem so gung-ho about it either. "It's worth a shot," she added defensively.

"Seventy miles of walkers. You might run into a few unneighborly types," Daryl prophesized. "Is it?"

_Isn't it_, she thought. She had made it her mission to find this man, so it had to be. But she didn't want to end up in an argument about this within her first five minutes back at home, so she conceded.

Daryl went on to explain that he was headed on a supply run, offering Rick a spot if he wanted to take it. But Michonne knew he wouldn't, because he never went more than a couple of miles outside of the prison anymore. That was her job now.

"I'll go," she volunteered before things could get too uncomfortable.

Carl had been listening to the entire conversation as he walked Michonne's horse up to its stable, and he was none too pleased with their decision. "You just got here!" he contested.

She turned to him with a reassuring smile, but made sure to catch Rick's eye, too. "And I'll be back."

* * *

><p>It was close to midnight when Michonne found herself trudging across the empty prison yard, headed for the guard tower. It was noisy out there, due to the walker buildup, but she found it oddly peaceful. Maybe because it was nice to hear something other than her own thoughts.<p>

"Hey, gorgeous."

She smiled at the sound of Rick's voice, pulling her from her random musings, and looked up at him. He stood against the rail of the guard tower, staring down at her with a smile, looking sexy as ever. "You talkin' to yourself?" she smirked.

"I missed you," he returned, ignoring her compliment.

"Not enough to come with me on the run today." She was teasing – she knew why he didn't. But a small part of her hoped he would change his mind if she went. They rarely had a chance to be together away from the prison. Even if it was with six other people.

"You're really gonna try and guilt trip me right now?"

"If it works," she grinned.

"Get up here," he nodded towards their little hideout for the night. "I saved you some dinner."

"Aren't you sweet." She quickly bounded up the steps, where Rick met her at the top with a pleased look on his face. His eyes averted her though, and she knew he was scanning the yard for people. "No one's out there."

He looked back to her, satisfied with her answer, and pulled her in for a kiss. It was soft and seductive, causing her knees to buckle once their tongues touched. Perhaps it had just been way too long, but her body had obviously forgotten what a good kisser Rick was.

"I think you really did miss me," she chuckled as they came up for air.

He gave her another quick kiss on the lips. "I did." He then took her hand into his and led her inside. "Come on."

Inside the tower, where Rick had been waiting for nearly an hour, there were two comforters on the floor, as well as a sleeping bag, then the infamous orange backpack, which was full of supplies like water, crackers, ammo, books. It was an apocalyptic overnight bag, for all intents and purposes. Across the room, at the small desk in the corner, sat a plate with a sandwich on it. Somehow, he always knew when she hadn't eaten. But that was probably because she typically forgot to eat anything other than breakfast, unless he reminded her.

"You're too good to me, Grimes."

"I'm sure you'll make it up to me, Dillard."

That was certainly what she had planned. But in the meantime, she sat down to her sandwich while Rick watched her. It was a BLT, made with lettuce and tomato from his own garden, which made her smile. She did her best to keep her mind off of the cute little pig that had to be slaughtered for the bacon. "You ate?"

He nodded, leaning against the tower door with his arms folded across his chest. "But I saved room for you. Don't worry."

She bit her lip in anticipation. He always said things like that, and she felt the heat rise in her face every single time. "Hershel said you weren't feeling so great, but I guess that's not true..."

"I'm all right."

"You sure?"

He'd just watched a woman kill herself, and it reminded him that for a while, he'd been headed down the same path. He was rattled. But he always felt better when Michonne was around. "I'm sure."

She took a few big bites of her sandwich before responding. "Good."

"How about you?" he asked quietly, almost unsure whether he wanted the answer. "You were on your own for a _long_ time."

"I'm used to it," she shrugged nonchalantly. "In fact, it's a little easier when I know I have a place to come back to."

"Not just wandering aimlessly," he nodded in total understanding. He recalled when she talked of her days before finding Andrea, how she would just roam the woods, killing walkers and trying not to die of starvation. No real reason to live, and plenty of reasons to just give up. "I'm glad to hear it."

"You know I'm doing this for a reason, right? That I'm not just running away?"

"Of course," he offered a slight frown, reassuring her that he got it. He didn't like it, but he got it. "You're doing what you think is right."

"But you don't agree with me," she knew. Rick and Daryl seemed intent on making her feel guilty about this, without really even trying.

"I didn't say that." He moved across the room to close the distance between them, standing behind her as she finished her meal. He let his hands fall to her bare shoulders and began to gently massage away the obvious tension in her body.

Her head fell back, resting against his torso as she let herself melt into his touch. He obviously didn't want to discuss it any further, so she didn't either. "That feels good," she sighed softly as she moved her hair out of his way.

Pleased with her reaction, he continued down her back as he leaned in to kiss her neck. He closed his eyes at the sensation, her smooth chocolate skin tasting just as lovely as he remembered. "I think I missed this the most," he whispered, his southern accent suddenly in overdrive. His fingers slowly slipped down her shirt and inside her bra, playing with her nipples as his lips continued across her collarbone.

Michonne could feel herself getting wet from just the feel of his tongue on her skin. She needed this. She needed him. Badly. She only had to glance up at him for a moment and he knew exactly what she was looking for. The two of them were on the floor, tearing off one another's clothes within seconds.

Both of them on their knees, Rick was bent over her body, licking along her beautifully muscular back as his hands roamed over her breasts and then palmed her backside. He reached around her front to dip his fingers inside her, but paused when he felt the soft curls covering her pussy. "So you want me to shave, but you don't do it yourself?"

She looked back at him, in disbelief that this was what he chose to focus on in this moment. "Really, Rick?"

"I just think it seems like a double standard..."

This was another thing he always seemed to do – making her laugh in their most awkward and intimate moments. She was starting to believe that if she didn't laugh at least once during sex, something was wrong. "Tell you what," she offered breathlessly, turning her body to lie on her back and face him. "When you shave up here, I'll shave down there."

"Fair enough," he couldn't help but grin as he stared at her picture perfect tits. He went on to finger her with one hand, stroking his own dick with the other as he prepared to enter her.

Michonne spread her legs wide, impatiently awaiting the feel of him inside her. It came slowly and teasingly, at first just the tip of his cock, rubbing against her clit. Then he penetrated her hot center for only a moment before pulling out. He had a sly smirk on his face, knowing he was driving her crazy.

"Do it," she growled.

Her wish was his command. He pushed inside without any more hesitation and began to pump steadily, her breathing and moaning to every thrust. Her favorite thing about fucking in the guard tower was that they didn't have to be quiet, and she was sure to prove it.

"Oh god, Rick," she whimpered loudly as her nails dug into his shoulders. His stroke was driving her out of her mind, and she could feel herself on the verge of an absolutely sublime orgasm. This was exactly the welcome home she was looking for.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, the two of them were still wrapped up in one another. Michonne was using Rick's back as a pillow with her arm draped across his bare waist. She could feel the sweat underneath her face, being stuck to him for so long, but she didn't care to move. She probably even needed the contact, just to feel normal again. It wasn't until she realized what time it was that she thought of removing herself from their position.<p>

"Hey." She attempted to wake him by lightly slapping his ass. When he stirred, she lifted herself from his body to search for her clothes. "I'm gonna head back."

"Right now?" he frowned. He had also been enjoying their closeness, especially after having gone so long without it.

"It's gonna be morning soon."

"Yeah…" He contorted so that he was on his side now, and grabbed her hand, holding it over his chest. "But what if we just stayed here?"

"Really?" she asked, somewhat surprised. They'd done this many times, and he never asked her to stay. In fact, he was the reason she was so careful in the first place. He was clear that this was for the two of them only.

"I'm not ready for you to leave yet," he confirmed with a small nod. "Stay with me."

She didn't know what this meant, if anything, but she was quite happy to do exactly that. "Okay." With her hand still cradled in his, she cuddled up to his back and wrapped her leg around him, enjoying the warmth of their naked bodies so close together. Nights like this were why all those days alone were okay.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**_ _I got this kernel of an idea over the weekend, and it transformed into a whole story between then and now. So… stay tuned! I probably should've waited to start this during the mid-season break, but I'm way too impatient, and I'll probably have some other ridiculous idea by then, lol. So we're off on another adventure! I hope you enjoy! -Ash_


	2. The First Day of Our Acquaintance

_**A/N:** First and foremost, thank you guys for the feedback! I never know what to think when I'm starting a new story, so it means the world to hear your thoughts and see you share in my excitement! I've officially finished the outline for this story, so I hope to update pretty regularly. (We'll see how my job feels about that, lol.) Anyway, here's another chapter to help you through yet another Richonne-less week of TWD. Womp, womp. -Ash_

* * *

><p><strong>2 – The First Day of Our Acquaintance<strong>

_6 months ago._

Rick had just returned from a perimeter check and was sitting on the steps outside of the tombs, enjoying the fresh air of the evening, when Michonne happened upon him. It was cold, so she hadn't any plans to stop and talk, but he spoke first. He had started to do that lately, she noticed – stopping to chat. It was usually about nothing, which she was beginning to enjoy, but today, she wasn't particularly in the mood for it.

"Where've you been all day," he greeted her as she appeared at the bottom of the steps. He stood from his seat so that she would be able to get by.

"Wandering," she answered simply.

"Wandering?"

"Through the woods, just seeing what's out there. Or who's out there, I guess."

He nodded in understanding. She was a loner, by her own design, so he hadn't pushed her to be any more a part of the prison than she wanted to be. But her disappearing without telling anyone was getting old to him. "Well you missed dinner, but I'm sure we could rustle up some leftover squirrel for you."

"I'm fine," she smirked, heading up the steps to go inside.

He watched her as she passed, as he often did. The way her katana always hit the back of her thigh amused him, for some reason. But something about her ass just insisted on drawing in his curious blue eyes. Sometimes, he didn't even realize he was staring at it. "You don't seem fine," he told her cautiously. He had to get it out before she could disappear.

"Excuse me?"

"Okay, no, you are fine," he corrected himself, feeling nervous suddenly. "I mean... it seems like you might be a little... down."

She frowned back at him, unsure whether he was extremely good at reading her, or just transferring his own feelings onto her. Either way, it wasn't something she wanted to probe at the moment. "I'm fine," she repeated, a little more forceful this time.

"I don't mean to offend you..."

"You didn't."

"I just..." He sighed. He didn't know whether he wanted to continue. "Have a good night, Michonne."

She sighed this time, frustrated with the fact that he was being so suddenly timid. From the way he spoke to her when she first arrived, she knew he wasn't intimidated by her, not the way most men were. Why couldn't he just spit it out? "What is it, Rick?"

"It's nothin'."

"It's obviously something that's got you sputtering like a little kid."

"You've been gone all day and now you're in a bad mood," he finally revealed his issue. "I just wanna know what's goin' on."

"What's going on is that I have no desire to sit around here, acting like everything is fine. We could die tomorrow, at the hands of that man, and you people are more worried about Christmas dinner than your lives."

It was his turn to be offended. "'You people?'" he repeated, walking up to meet her at the top of the steps. The space was small, so he essentially had her pinned against the door. "So you just kinda live here? You're not one of us?"

"Is that what I said?"

"That seems to be what you're saying," he nodded. "Yes."

"I just don't want to get comfortable. Comfortable gets you killed."

"And what's the point of being alive if you refuse to live, Michonne?"

She swallowed hard, trying to think of a response. But it was hard to do that with Rick so close. He tended to get right in your face when he was making a point, and this was no exception. "I just want to find him."

"I know you do." He backed off a little when she seemed to be softening her stance. "But that doesn't mean you don't get to enjoy things in the meantime."

"I don't _want_ to enjoy things."

"Why? What does depriving yourself do for you?"

She closed her eyes, admitting to herself why she was so determined to stay hardened to the world, and even more tragically, the people at the prison. "It keeps me safe."

"Because you cared about Andrea, and now she's gone," he knew. "I get it."

"It doesn't seem like you do."

"I do," he assured her softly. His breath created a puff of cold air that encircled both of their faces. "I have bad days. A lot of them, honestly. And it's this place, these people, that keep me going. You people are the reason I'm still standing."

She smirked at his use of her term, but avoided his gaze, looking down to the ground. Their feet were so close, she was surprised their bodies weren't touching. "Can I go inside now?"

"You could've gone inside five minutes ago," he shrugged.

She nodded, but didn't move. She stood with her back against the door, not even worried about the fact that anyone could come bursting out of it at any minute. She felt emotionally drained, and her body felt stuck as a result. She just stood there, staring at their boots.

"You all right?" he wondered when she hadn't left her spot.

She nodded again. "Just finding my bearings."

"You don't strike me as someone that would ever lose them."

_If only that were true_, she thought to herself. In fact, she nearly stumbled when Rick's hand reached past her hip for the door handle.

Noticing her odd reaction, he pulled back. "I'm not tryin' to seduce you. I just wanna get inside."

"Then say, 'Excuse me.'"

He went for the handle again, this time deliberately brushing her hip as he did. "Excuse me."

She stared at him now, wondering if he was attempting to flirt with her. There had been a couple of times in their short history where she honestly wasn't sure, but then figured he probably wasn't if she had to ask herself. But now? He had clearly touched her on purpose, and his eyes seemed to be daring her to say something about it. "You're excused," she returned, removing herself from his path.

He knew she wouldn't take the bait, but a part of him hoped she would surprise him. He went on in, holding the door for her so that she could follow. As soon as they were inside the tombs, he pushed her against the nearest wall and demanded her gaze. "Can we just get this over with?"

She had been avoiding whatever 'this' meant for months now. Maybe even since the day they met. There had been a tension between them that they'd been trying to ignore, but Rick was obviously done with it, and she was, too. Perhaps this could be the one thing she enjoyed without being racked with guilt. She nodded only slightly in reply to his question before pulling him in for a kiss. She hadn't kissed anyone in a while, so when she went for his lips, it was sloppy and ungentle. It was awkward. Her lips bumped his teeth, and she wasn't sure what to do with her tongue before they found their rhythm.

Rick's hands moved swiftly, the two of them silent as he pulled off her belt and unbuttoned her jeans. She bit her lip in anticipation, her eyes on the ceiling as he crouched to the floor to help her to step out of her pants. They still didn't speak using words, only their tongues wrestling mercilessly with one another. Rick's body was pressed against her now, and she could feel his rock hard dick nearly digging into her pelvis. She could tell he wanted her, even if it was just because she was the nearest vagina available. And the feeling was mutual.

She waited impatiently for him to loosen his own belt buckle, and soon, his pants and drawers were around his ankles. He grabbed the underside of her ass to hoist her up against the wall, letting her long, strong legs wrap around his waist. He then pushed her panties to the side before thrusting into her roughly. Michonne gasped at the sensation, surprised by not only the force, but the tightness. Granted, she hadn't had sex in over a year now, but Rick filled her completely, and the feeling was almost akin to her very first time – gloriously painful.

He hadn't seemed to notice though, and was pumping steadily, enjoying the delicious pleasure of her hot, wet pussy surrounding him. It had been so damn long, and he never got the opportunity to just blow off steam like this. Maybe the lack of sex was why he went crazy in the first place. Everyone needs some kind of release. And this sex wasn't about the two of them getting to know one another better. It wasn't about sharing some intimate emotional bond. It was a primal need both of them had been suffering from. It was urgent and intense, and it showed in the pace of their breathing. By all accounts, the tombs were freezing at night, but the heat between them completely quelled that. It was like a sauna.

"Rick..." Michonne moaned out loud, unsure of what she wanted to express beyond that. She felt so good, for the first time in a long time. She felt alive. But being pinned beneath his thrusts, she also felt helpless. She felt vulnerable, and she didn't like it. She wrapped her arm around his neck and willed herself to come quickly.

"Oh fuck," Rick grunted as he felt himself reaching his climax. He probably should've asked before they fucked, but he hoped she was on some kind of birth control. Because he didn't hold back in the least, letting himself spill into her violently. He wouldn't have been surprised to find out she was pregnant by morning.

Sated, she slowly slid off of him and they immediately began pulling their clothes back on, preparing to return to their regularly scheduled programming. Michonne was headed for the door the second her katana was slung across her back again, but Rick's voice halted her as he snapped his holster back into place.

"Hey."

She turned to face him, but was nervous about what he would say. She didn't want this to be a thing they had to address. It was obviously something they both needed, and nothing further needed to be said. "Rick, I don't need to be courted," she stated plainly. "We're at war. Fucking and fighting is just about all we have. We don't need to talk about either one."

"Okay," he chuckled, resting his hand on his gun.

"I don't mean to be crass. I just–. "

"No, I like crass," he nodded, with a small smile. "I even like the arrogance that told you I wanted to sit here and have a discussion about it. But I was just gonna say that you know where to find me if you wanna do it again."

"Right." If her face could turn red, it would have. But she played it cool and simply bid him a good night, keeping to herself that he'd most certainly given her a good one. "Looking forward to it," she smirked as she turned back for the door.

"Does this mean you're gonna stick around for longer than a week at a time?"

"I didn't say all that, Grimes."

He smiled at the sight of her walking away, just as amused by it as he was her cocky demeanor. He liked her. "It's not fair you get to call me by my last name and I don't even know yours," he called after her.

She laughed to herself, but didn't turn around, so as not to show her hand. He didn't need to know that she was charmed by his antics. "It's Dillard," she declared quietly, just before disappearing into their cellblock.


	3. Come And Put Your Name On It

**3 – Come And Put Your Name On It**

_4 months ago._

"Good god," Michonne huffed as she slid herself from Rick's body. She fell into the floor beside him, her torso heaving up and down as she tried to catch her breath. "That was the kind of orgasm you feel in your chest."

Rick laughed tiredly as he bit his bottom lip. He wholeheartedly agreed, and almost couldn't believe how simultaneously exalted and exhausted he felt. "How are you so good at this?"

She loved the sound of his voice after they had sex. If he had a swagger about him before, it turned to straight arrogance afterwards. His voice was dripped in it, all low and husky. She couldn't even focus on his question.

"I'll take your silence as a sign of humility, and not that you're ignoring me."

"Forgive me," she offered a bright smile before turning her head away from him. "I'm still in recovery."

He sat up on his elbows to look at her. Her whole body glistened with sweat, and it was such a beautiful sight. Her delectable chocolate skin in its endless form of curves and edges always kept him captivated. He had never realized the joys of a nice ass until he came into contact with what was probably the nicest one he'd ever seen. Michonne's was perfect. When she stood in front of him, he always felt the urge to bite it. It was like a perfect Georgia peach.

"I guess we should finally get what we came for?" She hopped up from her spot and began to retrieve her clothing, throwing his at him when she saw he hadn't moved. "We have to be back before dark," she reminded him.

"Says who," he sighed, pulling on his underwear.

"Says the guy who doesn't like being away from his kids after dark."

"Oh yeah, I do have those two to get back to," he joked with a playful smile. He untangled her bra from his jeans and threw it to her. "I'm sure Carl was more than happy to get a break from me today."

"Probably." She actually knew it for a fact, which was why she encouraged this little run in the first place. But she wasn't going to tell Rick that. "But you needed a break, too."

"What makes you say that?"

"Everyone needs a break now and then," she shrugged.

"That's a far cry from the woman two months ago, telling me she didn't wanna enjoy anything."

"I guess something changed my mind," she winked at him.

He nodded as he finishing buttoning his dark plaid shirt. "Well while we're handing out compliments, you're the only break I need."

She smiled in reply. She held out his gun belt so that he could reclaim it, while he grabbed her sword from the door she'd rested it against, handing it over to her. "Thank you, sir."

He couldn't get over how much he enjoyed these moments with her. It wasn't just the sex, which they'd had a lot of, and was certainly satisfying, but it was the smallness of a well-timed smile that reminded him how much he liked her.

Side by side, the two of them exited the abandoned home they'd used for their rendezvous and surveyed the neighborhood. They were on a mission for prison staples – ammo, baby formula, batteries, lighters, and most importantly, toilet paper.

"Where do you wanna start?" Michonne looked to Rick.

"This is your mission. I'm just along for the ride," he shrugged with a smirk. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"Quite a change from the guy I was just sitting on top of."

"Very funny," he chuckled. "And you definitely weren't just sitting."

"You got me there," she had to concede. She led him to the house next door, having noticed a playground set in the backyard. She figured it would be as good a place as any to check for anything Judith could use. As they approached the front of the home, she glanced over the rocking chairs that sat on the porch, covered in cobwebs. "Is it weird if I find myself judging people's decorating?" she wondered out loud, just before kicking in the front door.

He knocked against the nearest wall a couple of times, waiting for walker noise before answering. "It's a little weird," he answered, looking over to her. "But I make up entire lives for these people based on their homes, so what can I say?"

They cautiously continued through the home, making a deliberate ruckus and then pausing for any type of reaction. When they received none, they immediately headed for the kitchen, where they tended to find most of their loot. In this case, a slumped over corpse sat solitarily at the breakfast table. A gun was on the floor next to it.

Michonne blinked a couple of times, trying to shake away her sympathy for the person. They'd chosen to give up for whatever reason, and she didn't need to waste her feelings on them.

"That could've been me," Rick proclaimed quietly, also seeming to have found some compassion for this stranger. "When I got out of that hospital and walked in my house and found my family was gone." He shook his head.

She was always curious about Rick's story and finding his family. She'd heard bits and pieces, here and there, about him being shot in the line of duty and waking up to this mess. She couldn't even imagine. But for him to have found his wife and child in the chaos that was Atlanta must have been quite a feat. The more she learned about him, the more intrigued she was. The more she liked him. "What stopped you?"

"Lori had taken the family albums," he chuckled wistfully. "I mean, I'm glad she did, or I probably would've thought she was dead. But she took pictures and she took clothes. I knew she and Carl were out there, and I was gonna find them."

"So you just went after them on blind faith…"

"What else could I do?" He stooped down to pick up the gun, examining the chamber to see how many bullets were left. He glanced at her, and without any other words, he added it to his bag.

* * *

><p>"Hey." It was about a quarter after 10:00 when Rick peeked into Michonne's cell to see if she was there. The kids were tucked in, and he was ready to call it a night himself, but he wanted to say good night to her first.<p>

"Hey," She looked up from where she was lying in bed and smiled at him. She scooted over so that he could have a sliver of the twin-sized mattress if he wanted it.

"I wasn't gonna stay..."

"Not even if I want you to?"

His blue eyes dropped to the floor for a moment of contemplation before landing back on her. He wasn't sure why she wanted him there after they'd spent the entire day together, but he realized he was more than happy to stay. He sat down at first, gauging how much space he had, and then swung his feet up so that he could lie down. The bed was small, so their bodies and their faces were close.

"Before I forget," he yawned, "Carl wanted me to thank you for his new shoes."

"Well that's a cheap trick. Why couldn't he thank me himself?"

"I'm sure he will. He just knew I was gonna see you first."

She pretended to eye him suspiciously, but decided to let it go. Besides, Rick was the one that knew he needed new shoes. She was just better at finding such things, which was why she was always on the run, so to speak. "Next time, I gotta find some comic books or something. We've exhausted nearly everything in the library."

"You two," he chuckled in amusement. He couldn't put into words how much he appreciated that she had taken to him. She was better with Carl than he was.

"Us two?"

"You two have been thick as thieves lately. And I appreciate it."

She contorted so that she was on her side, facing Rick with a smile. He didn't have to thank her, but she accepted it all the same. "So have you and I."

"And I appreciate it," he chuckled adorably. "For more reasons than just the obvious."

"And what's the obvious?" she narrowed her sultry brown eyes at him.

"The physical part," he retorted in a whisper.

"Oh, so this isn't just about sex?"

"I mean…" His eyes scanned the top of her bunk as he searched for the right answer. "No, not completely."

"Good to know," she smirked.

"You thought it was?"

"I didn't think about it," she shrugged. "Maybe because it was easier not to. So I didn't have to worry about being alone in whatever feelings I came up with."

"But we've been fuckin' for two months. How could you've not even considered it?"

"I mean, we're friends, we obviously care about each other." She pushed a stray curl from his face as she spoke. "I never needed to explore anything further than that."

Here he thought his feelings, whatever they were, were mutual. "Well all right."

"Funny enough," she went on, "I was out in the yard with Tyreese the other day, and I got the distinct feeling he was flirting with me. And I couldn't help but think of you."

Rick's entire body visibly tensed at this anecdote. "What do you mean by 'flirting?'"

"I mean, nothing extreme," she shrugged again, grinning. "He was talking about how much I must work out, and how it was nice to see me back at the prison again. Even though I had only been gone maybe two days."

"He touch you?"

"What?" she laughed. "No, Rick. It was all very innocuous. He might not have even known it sounded suggestive."

"And what made you think about me?"

"I dunno, you just kind of flashed through my mind. Probably because he kept looking at my ass, too."

"What?" he immediately sat straight up, staring down at her. "You can't just throw something like that in."

"Calm down, crazy. I'm kidding."

"No, you're not."

"Lay back down," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Either way, it's not a big deal, and it's not something you get to be mad about."

"And why not?"

"Oh, you're gonna try and put your claims on it now? After you're the one that said I could do whatever and whomever I want?"

"I said that at the beginning of this. Yes," he admitted, as he fell back into the bed. "But you've only been doing me since then, so…"

"Who told you that lie?" she simpered.

"I'll give you every Cup O' Noodles I own if you can name one person you've even thought about screwing besides me."

"You know you'd give me all your noodles anyway. All I'd have to do is ask."

He enjoyed that she knew that about him. "So what you're saying is that you don't have an answer."

"What I'm saying is… if you don't want me to screw anyone else, just say it."

"Fair enough." He stared at her face for a long time, trying to decide what he liked most about it. He eventually came to the conclusion of her lips, mainly because he knew what they were capable of, but her eyes were a very close runner-up. She was too beautiful for words. It didn't even make sense that he was able to pull her in the first place.

"To answer your question, I've seriously considered what Daryl might be like in bed."

And all of his upbeat thoughts came to a cease at the sound of her admission. His eyes locked back on hers. "Why would you say this?"

"You asked."

"You're evil," he joked with raised eyebrows. "You don't tell a man you wanna fuck his best friend."

"Then why did you ask!" she hissed.

"Because you seemed smart enough to not have an answer!"

"Well you seemed smart enough to not ask questions you don't want the answers to."

"I knew I shouldn't have stayed," he sighed. "I was on my way to bed…"

"Don't be such a baby," she playfully kicked his boot with her bare foot. "Besides, I had my chance and didn't take it, so I obviously didn't want it that badly."

He laughed as he closed his eyes at all the information she was sending his way. "You're just full of surprises tonight. When did this chance occur?"

"Just… on a run a while back."

"That is suspiciously unspecific…"

"It was before you and I ever did anything," she promised with a smile. "The opportunity presented itself while we were stuck in this cabin, but in the end, I just wasn't feeling it, and neither was he, I suppose."

Rick hated even thinking about Michonne with someone else, but his mind couldn't help but wonder why they didn't go through with it. He was certainly glad, but he also knew it didn't really make sense to him. Like she'd said, fucking and fighting were the main things they had to fill their days. Especially on a run.

"You're not mad, are you?"

"No," he frowned, shaking his head. "It's kind of funny, kind of weird."

"That would be our lives in a nutshell, wouldn't it?"

"Truer words…"

They fell silent for a moment, and Michonne turned so that she was lying on her back again. She loved how comfortable she felt, so close to him. She didn't know what they were, and honestly didn't care about labels and titles, but she felt like the tides were certainly turning to something more serious. When she arrived at the prison, she never thought she would find any kind of relationship waiting for her, but she was slowly but surely learning that the universe was quite keen on surprising her.

"Hey, Michonne?" His voice was quiet and unconfident. He was almost scared to say what he wanted to say, not wanting to be met with rejection.

She kept her eyes closed as she answered. "Yeah?"

"I don't want you with anyone else."

And there it was. She smiled to herself as she intertwined her fingers with his. "All right."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**__ Okay! No more flashbacks after this, but I did want to show a little of how they got where they are in the first chapter, so I hope you enjoyed the glimpses into their past. It will definitely inform their future (particularly the part about finding Lori and Carl. Hmmmm!), where they're headed from here, and all that jazz. Yay, Richonne! They're back on TWD tonight! Happy Thanksgiving! It's nearly 3:00am and I should be packing for a flight but I'm not! And now I'm just rambling! Seriously, I'm gone now. LOL. Thanks, guys! -Ash_


	4. The Upheaval

_**A/N: **__Well, I went out of town and managed to come back with a cold, so forgive me if this chapter makes no sense, haha. (Kidding.) I just wanted to say that this is definitely going to take a departure from the show, but still follow the same general outline of events. (That probably makes no sense in itself.) So… bear with me on the parts you've heard/seen before. We're gonna take a detour! Hope you enjoy! -Ash_

* * *

><p><strong>4 – The Upheaval<strong>

"You're lucky you missed it," Carl declared as he took his seat across from Michonne and his sister. He had just collected his breakfast of stale cereal, complemented with fresh strawberries from the garden, and was sharing the details of his previous tumultuous night. "I think we counted over seventy walkers."

Michonne shook her head, feeling a bit of agony for her boys as she thought about what that must have been like. She held Judith close to her, feeling bad for not having been there. She was helping the prison in another way, and she knew that was important too, but it was obvious Rick could've used her help there. "It was just you and your dad, huh?"

"It was so fucked up," he nodded as he took a bite of his food.

She looked at Judith with widened eyes as she playfully gasped, and then fixated on Carl. "Are you kidding me?"

He looked up at her, confused. "What?"

"Watch your mouth!"

"Oh," he rolled his eyes dismissively. "My dad doesn't care."

"First of all, I doubt that's true," she quirked an eyebrow at him as she stole a strawberry from his bowl. "And second of all, I care."

"You do?"

"Yes," she returned as if it should have been obvious. "I do. And you definitely shouldn't curse in front of your sister."

Carl shrugged. "I figure with all the shi- excuse me – stuff she's gonna see in her lifetime, an F-bomb isn't gonna do much damage."

That actually did sound like his father's logic. "Maybe so," she offered him a small grin. "But maybe we keep her innocent for as long as we can?"

"Cool with me," he shrugged again.

"It's obviously too late for you, but there may be a chance she can be a kid until she's at least five or six."

"Oh, that's messed up," Carl laughed as he noticed his father walk into the cafeteria. They both smiled at him but continued their conversation. "It's too late for me, huh?"

"You already know too much," she smirked. She finished her strawberry and left the stem on an empty napkin. "How come you didn't bring Judy any fruit?"

"Well she's allergic to strawberries, and she doesn't like apricots, so… we kinda just stick to the formula and that rice cereal."

Michonne nodded. She had already given her the rice for the morning, but figured she could use something in her diet that wasn't white. "Maybe for dinner tonight, we can puree some of those carrots or peas your dad's got out there."

"I've tasted those peas," he made a face at the mere thought. "Judy definitely would not like that."

"Oh, whatever. You don't know her life," she teased him.

"I know my sister," he answered looking down at the infant. "She likes water, she loves oatmeal, she's definitely a morning person, and would rather you leave her alone after like five o'clock. She likes when Beth sings to her, but she cries when I do it." He shook his head as he recalled the last time he tried to sing her a Foo Fighters song. "Also, she'd rather play with garbage than actual toys, so I don't know. She's weird."

"Obviously runs in the family," Michonne stuck her tongue out at him. She saw Rick in the background talking to Hershel, and wondered if he was revealing to him that he'd banished Carol from the prison. In the few minutes she spent with him overnight, she knew it was weighing heavy on him.

"Do you think you'll really be here in five years?" Carl wondered as he finished off his cereal.

"What?" she frowned, refocusing on the young man in front of her.

"You said we should give Judith a few more years to be a kid. I was asking if you think you'd actually still be here in five more years."

"Do you think you'll be?"

"If things stay like this…" He looked around the room, dotted with his new friends and family, eating food, laughing, relieved that people were recovering from the sickness that had just spread throughout the prison. "I could see it."

"Then why would I leave?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "You seem to like leaving."

She frowned again, almost offended this time. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, sometimes you're here for a while, but then you go. I just wonder if one time, you'll decide to not come back."

"Carl..." Her face softened considerably, and she repositioned Judith so that she was no longer climbing all over her, but sitting in her lap. "I will _always_ come back to you, okay?"

"And my dad?"

"And your dad," she grinned warmly at him before looking down to Rick's daughter. "And this little lady, too."

"Cool."

"We good?"

"I just… I know that I want you to always come back. I can only assume Judith would. And I know my dad does too, so it's nice to have confirmation."

"How do you know your dad does," she chuckled.

"Because he cares about you."

She felt a light flutter in her chest at the idea that Rick had spoken to Carl about her. She didn't think their relationship had gone past clandestine status, but maybe she was wrong. "He tell you that?"

"No, I just know my dad." Well so much for that, she thought. "You, Hershel, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie. Everyone we consider family. He cares about what happens to you guys. You're all we have."

She couldn't pretend she wasn't disappointed that Rick hadn't actually spoken to Carl about her. But she very well couldn't be mad that she had people to call family. And she didn't actually need the kid to tell her that Rick cared about her. She knew that. "Like I said, you don't have to worry about me not coming back." She saw Rick approaching as she finished her statement, and flashed a bright smile at him. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear."

"Mornin'," he grinned back at her before ruffling Carl's hair. "I was gonna let you sleep in this morning and here you are, already up."

"Are you kidding? I could barely sleep," he answered, looking up at his father. "Michonne stopped by to say she was taking Judith to breakfast, I decided to go with them."

Rick nodded and then looked back at Michonne and his daughter. "Thank you for taking her, by the way." He moved to her side of the table to retrieve his baby, but she declined.

"Don't be coming over here disturbing our mojo," she joked. "We're fine over here."

"You babysittin' today?"

"Oh no, I was still gonna take her to Beth." She moved over so that he could take a seat beside her. "I just mean you don't have to do it."

"What were you two talkin' about," he inquired as he accepted the proffered seat. "Some comic book or another?"

"We were talking about you," Carl piped up excitedly. "And Michonne."

"Me and Michonne?" he sputtered nervously. His eyes landed on her, wondering why she would do something so odd as to discuss him with Carl. "And where did that conversation lead you?"

"Absolutely nowhere," she promised, shaking her head at his obvious discomfort. "I was just telling Carl that I'll always come back to you guys."

"And I was just telling Michonne how she and everyone else here are really important to you, and you need her here just as much as you do everyone else."

"I'd say that's accurate," Rick nodded, now avoiding her gaze as he tried to regain his composure. "More than accurate."

She had to laugh to herself about the fact that Rick had no poker face whatsoever. And so, a secret they would stay, obviously. "Should we head outside and assess the damage?"

"Yeah, I guess we should," he sighed. "There are a bunch of dead ones that need to be taken out back."

"You talk to Daryl yet?" Michonne asked, looking at him.

"Not yet." His apprehension about it was palpable. "I think he's probably outside already."

She nodded. "I'll handle the bodies then. You do your thing."

"You sure?"

"I'm quite sure."

"I'll take Judy to Beth," Carl offered, wanting to be helpful. "Then I'll meet you outside, Dad?"

"Sounds good." He watched Michonne stand from the table to bring Judith over to her brother. He was starting to realize he loved seeing her with his kids more than anything, but he quickly left those thoughts behind as he stood up as well, prepared to start his day. As he passed behind Michonne, he discreetly gave her ass a quick tap and smiled back at her as he headed out of the room.

* * *

><p>Michonne and Hershel had been at the back of the prison for the better part of an hour, burning the many walker bodies that Rick and Carl put down the night before, as well as a few Daryl had to take care of overnight.<p>

"It's a wonder all that gunfire didn't draw more of 'em in," Hershel commented, wiping his hands on his pants. Handling walkers was quite a messy job.

"It's only been a few hours," she noted. She poured the last bit of gas across the pile of corpses and looked at him tiredly. "Who knows what's coming next."

"You're right about that. Might be a herd forming even as we speak."

She pulled a lighter from her pocket and grabbed a small plank of wood from the flatbed. "Let's hope not," she grinned. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"No, you go right ahead," he smiled back at her. He took note of how calm she looked, and almost… happy to be there. He didn't know Michonne extremely well, but liked to think he'd gotten a pretty good handle on her in the time she'd been living at the prison. He liked watching her transformation, from this truculent misanthrope to an active member of their little community. "I'm proud of you, Michonne."

She looked up from her task with a half smile, half frown. "For what? This is the easiest part."

"I don't mean this," he chuckled. "I mean what you've done all these months, opening yourself up, being a part of this family. I'm very proud of you."

"Oh, well…" She shrugged, trying not to think of Rick being the reason for that. She had done it herself, and she did deserve credit for that. "I appreciate you guys letting me in."

"It's the hardest thing in the world, isn't it? Trusting people?"

"Especially nowadays," she agreed. "Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking."

"How do you mean?" he wondered, leaning against the trunk of a tree to get out of her way.

"I mean, when I came here. I just sort of let myself be taken in. Maybe because Andrea trusted you guys so much?" She lit the corners of the pile on fire and then stood back as well, so that she could face Hershel. "It almost felt like I knew Rick and everyone before I even met you."

"I think it goes deeper than that. You know, I felt the same way about Rick. I couldn't figure out what made me innately trust this man, but it was just there."

"Something in the way he talks," she smiled to herself. "It's soothing."

"Feels like he's honest," Hershel laughed lightly. "I remember him running up to my house with Carl in his arms. Seems so long ago now. But I remember thinking how dire the situation had to have been for him to trust me – a complete stranger – with his son's life. And I guess that's kind of where we all are now. We have to trust people, because we don't have a choice."

She had to laugh because he was so right. But then, Hershel was usually right, and she'd learned that in spades in the past few months.

"So how long you think you and Rick'll keep pretending you're not together?"

She found herself gasping lightly and then laughing at the question as it registered in her head. "I don't know what you're talking about," she grinned sweetly.

"Okay," he nodded knowingly. "It'll be our little secret then."

"Is it that obvious?"

"No, I don't think so," he assured her in that slow, comforting drawl of his. "Rick told me a while back and I've noticed it since then, but I'm not sure I would have otherwise."

"Rick told you?"

"He did."

"What did he say?"

"We should head on back," he proclaimed, turning to grab their gas cans. "I'll tell you on the way."

She was quick to oblige, as the smell of the burning walkers was becoming overwhelming. She started off towards their car, parked just a few feet away, but only made it a couple of feet before she was knocked out. Hershel grabbed his gun as quickly as he could, but found himself standing before The Governor holding his own weapon. He dropped his pistol, as directed, hoping his best chance of making it out of this alive was to do what the man said.

* * *

><p>"It's not up to me! There's a council now!" Rick was yelling, unsure of what else to say. "They run this place!"<p>

The Governor had a sly grin on his face, much in the same way he always did, as he asked, "Is Hershel on the council?" A few seconds later, Hershel Greene was being pulled to his knees in front of Rick and the others. "What about Michonne?" She followed suit, her hands tied behind her back, looking like she wanted to spit blood. "She on the council too?"

He stared in silence for a moment, wishing for this to be some awful figment of his imagination. His breathing became heavier as he came to the realization that it wasn't. "Goddamn it, Dillard," he whispered to himself.

He wanted to throw up. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. Why was she there? How did The Governor get the drop on her? That wasn't like her at all. Why was this happening? He had no choice but to walk down there and try to get them out of there alive. He had no idea how he was going to do it, but he had to try.

He looked back at Carl, saying a silent prayer that he wouldn't have to watch his father die. Not today. Not like this. The kid's bright blue eyes relayed everything Rick was feeling. Fear, hopefulness, confusion, anger, resolve. It was on him to save everyone, and they both knew it.

He trudged down the gravelly driveway, surveying the scene before him. He saw the tanks, he counted the twenty people standing in front of him with their guns aimed, he saw Hershel with his eyes closed, likely praying for a peaceful resolution, but his thoughts remained on Michonne. His hands began to shake when he realized how close he was to losing her. Hell, The Governor could've just taken her and killed her, and he never would've known. There was no telling what this man was capable of. He had to tread lightly here. He couldn't let them die on his watch. He couldn't let her die.

"You let 'em go," he demanded as he reached the bottom of the hill. He tried not to look at Michonne, but his eyes refused to obey. "You've got a tank. You don't need hostages," he told The Governor.

"I do," the man insisted with a nod. "This is just to show you I'm serious. Not to blast a hole in our new home. You and your people have 'til sundown to get out of here… or they die."

Rick could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He knew there was no reasoning with this man. He knew that they knew it too. "It doesn't have to go down this way," he returned evenly.

As Rick and The Governor spoke, Michonne tried to reel in Rick's focus again, catch his eye so that she could speak to him with just a look, as she tended to do. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't worth it. She wanted to ask him – beg him, really – not to give up the prison to save her life. The moment she realized she'd been captured, she came to terms with the fact that she wouldn't make it out of this alive. But Rick had to, for Carl and Judith. And the rest of these people, a lot of them sick, couldn't afford to lose their home over some vendetta Philip Blake had against her. She closed her eyes, willing him to hear her quiet plea. "Don't do this, Rick."

"We can all…" He stopped to collect his thoughts, and decide whether he really wanted to say this. But he had no other options. "We can all live together. There's enough room for all of us."

"More than enough," The Governor agreed. "But I don't think my family would sleep well knowing that you were under the same roof."

"We'd live in different cell blocks. We'd never have to see each other until we're all ready."

"It could work," Hershel turned to say. He was so proud of Rick for even putting the option out there. "You know it could."

_It can't_, Michonne thought to herself.

"It could've. But it can't," Philip echoed her thoughts. "Not after Woodbury. Not after Andrea."

Rick noted the look on Michonne's face at the mention of Andrea's name. He quickly piped back up before she could say something that got herself killed. "Look, I'm not sayin' it's gonna be easy. Fact is, it's gonna be a hell of a lot harder than standing here shooting at each other. But I don't think we have a choice."

"We don't," he smirked. "You do."

"We're not leaving."

In the courtyard, Daryl and Sasha armed everyone in sight with a gun, prepared for a battle. It would be an unfair fight, but they would go down swinging if they had to. "You all right?" Daryl asked Carl, seeing that he hadn't taken his eyes off of his father since the moment he walked down there.

Carl nodded, but his gun was locked and loaded. "Just staying ready."

"This is not gonna end well," Sasha quietly predicted as she sidled up to Daryl's right.

"If anybody can talk this man down, it's Rick."

Sasha looked at him, unaffected. "This is the man that shot down his own people in cold blood. For almost no reason at all."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, because she was right. This Governor had no rational side to speak of. No matter what he said about taking the prison peacefully and the hostages merely being insurance, Daryl knew that the likelihood of all of them getting out alive was pretty low. He bit nervously at his bottom lip as he tried to think of a backup to the backup plan. "You said the bus ain't got any supplies?" he asked Sasha.

"Not much. Definitely not enough food for everyone," she frowned.

He nodded and then took a deep breath. "This goes south, you aim for The Governor's face," he told both her and Carl. "And those two that got their guns on Hershel and Michonne. You hear me?" They both nodded. "You shoot or you run."

Carl remembered his father saying the exact same thing the night before. This was his life now, it seemed. "Why can't we just shoot him now?"

"What do you think happens if a gun goes off and your dad doesn't know where it came from?" Sasha reminded him. "And all three of them are in the line of fire."

Carl figured his dad would know to get out of there if he saw The Governor got shot, but she was correct – Michonne and Hershel would be killed instantly. So he continued to stand there and watch them talk.

"Oh, shit," she gasped when she saw their enemy hop off of his tank and grab Michonne's katana. He held it at Hershel's neck, looking menacingly back at Rick, as if he were daring him to let this happen.

"Shit," Daryl repeated, now aiming his gun directly at The Governor as well.

Rick was panicked now. "You, in the ponytail," he pointed out a young lady that looked about as terrified as he felt. "Is this what you want? Is this what any of you want?"

The guy sitting on top of the tank was adamant about siding with The Governor. "What we want is what you got. Period. Time for you to leave, asshole."

"Look, I fought him before. And after, we took in his old friends, and they've become leaders in what we have here. Now you put down your weapons, walk through those gates, you're one of us. We let go of all of it. Nobody dies." He couldn't imagine that all of these people were as crazy as The Governor, so he tried appealing to them. "Everyone who's alive right now, everyone who's made it this far, we've all done the worst kinds of things just to stay alive. But we can still come back. We're not too far gone," he promised them passionately. In that moment, he remembered what Hershel so wisely told him – things break, but they can still grow. "We get to come back. I know we all can change." He saw the look of contentment on Hershel's face, he saw the hope on Michonne's, and he said a prayer to the high heavens that his words worked a miracle.

But there was an evil gleam in the eye of The Governor, one that said he wasn't going to allow Rick to win. He wasn't going to let him have the moral high ground. He was going to break this man. "Liar."

Rick could only see red as he watched Hershel get struck in the neck. It wasn't even enough to kill him, but it did everyone else. He couldn't help but scream – not only for the loss of his dear friend, but for what he knew Maggie and Beth had just witnessed; for Michonne, whom he still had no way to save; for the fact that they were inevitably going to lose their home. This was the beginning of an end.

He quickly ran behind an overturned bus to get out of the line of fire, but he couldn't leave without Michonne. From where he was, he could see all of his people scattered across the courtyard, shooting for their lives. He could see everyone but Carl.

"Fuck!" he shouted angrily. He was so unbelievably frustrated and lost. As he tried to figure out his next move, a figure appeared beside him, and he nearly shot it until he realized it was Michonne. "You're okay," he exhaled in relief, briefly grabbing her face. Her face covered in tears.

She shook her head sadly, feeling out of breath and equally as helpless. "We gotta get outta here."

He nodded in agreement. "I gotta find Carl and Judith."

"You find Carl, I'll get Judith."

"Michonne, you don't have to-."

"Go," she demanded, wiping the tears that were blurring her vision. "We'll meet you on the bus."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN**__: Hmmm. Thinking that bus thing might not work out… But hey, maybe! Stay tuned!_


	5. Gotta Get Up, Life Is More Than Suicide

**A/N**: Fair warning – not a lot of dialogue in this. Hard to write. Probably even harder to read, lol. But I promise this is all necessary-ish. So bear with me! As always, I thank you guys so much for reading, following, etc. It means the world. (And I swear I will get back to reading you guys' stories as soon as I get past this Ebola-like cold. Ha.) Thanks, y'all! -Ashley

* * *

><p><strong>5 – Gotta Get Up, Life Is More Than Suicide<strong>

Michonne stood at the edge of the prison courtyard, watching the bus take off without her. It felt like the sky was falling. Her chest was burning, and so were her eyes as the threat of tears took over. Everything was such a mess. She was alone, feeling lost, with nowhere to go and no one to lean on. No one but Judith.

She looked at the baby, contorting in her arms, obviously just as frustrated and confused as she felt. What were they supposed to do? Rick and Carl hadn't made it to the bus, so she had to let it leave. But now she was questioning that decision, knowing that having Judith amid the approaching horde of walkers just wasn't a good idea. They needed to get out of there.

"Where the hell are you, Grimes?" she asked herself, scanning the huge yard for any sign of him. He was supposed to be finding Carl, and the fact that he hadn't resurfaced was beginning to terrify her. He wouldn't have left without her. She knew that much. Or at least, she thought she knew that much.

When she retreated from the prison with Judith, she saw that The Governor had been shot in the head. She wished she could've seen it herself. She probably would've stopped to give the person a hug. But getting the kids to safety was a much more important task, and she was just glad the man was fucking dead. He'd damaged them to their core, but at the very least, he couldn't hurt them anymore.

The walkers, on the other hand, were a different story. They were slowly but surely taking over the yard, and she was running out of ways to hide from them. "Shit," she whispered, pulling her katana from its sheath. She hoisted Judith's bag onto her shoulder, held the baby close to her side, and started to slowly make her way towards the outer edge of the prison. For the first time in a long time, she was supremely nervous as she walked through the throngs of corpses headed for her. If regular adults smelled like fresh meat to them, she could only imagine that the scent of a baby would drive them insane. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she prayed her way through, ready to slice anything that looked at her sideways. "We're okay," she exhaled coolly, talking to both herself and the infant. "We're gonna be just fine."

Her breathing got heavier, the closer they got to the outside. Something about the gates, even broken, made her feel safe. But she was on the cusp of being on her own, and it was frightening. "Just breathe," she whispered.

Either Judith understood the direness of their situation, or she felt the tension in Michonne's body. But just as they reached the end of the prison driveway, the baby began to cry. Loudly. "Shit, shit, shit." Michonne looked back to see a row of zombies turn in her direction. She had no choice but to run.

* * *

><p>Rick hobbled through the empty prison, not entirely sure of what he was looking for. Carl was his priority, obviously, but his common sense told him that no one was left. The entire place was silent as a tomb. And with the way he felt, he wasn't far off from needing one. He and Michonne had agreed to find the kids and then meet at the bus, but his plans were thwarted when The Governor stopped him in the prison yard, holding him at gunpoint. A brutal battle ensued, but Rick managed to get away by shooting him in the stomach before ending him once and for all.<p>

But his wounds were catching up to him. He no longer had the adrenaline of fighting for his life to keep his mind off of the pain. Among his wounds were at least two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and worst of all, a missing son. "Carl!" he called out desperately, only hearing his own echo reverberating in the walls. Soon, the walkers would be following his screams and raiding the inside of the prison. The Governor's tank shot enough holes in the place to make it utterly useless. "Carl!"

Silence.

As quickly as his body would move, he searched their cellblock for any sign of his child. He went to Carl's cell, finding his drawers were empty, his backpack gone. At the very least, he knew he'd gotten out of the place. He didn't know where he'd gone, but at least he was alive. That was a small win in the many, many losses he'd endured that day. The weight of it all came crashing down on him, and he sat down on Carl's bed with a giant, wheezing sigh, letting his tears fall.

It literally hurt him to cry. His salty tears burned when they hit his wounds. And he was so unbelievably tired. Rick wanted to give up. Everything in his body was telling him to just lie down and let the world do what it wanted to him. His family was gone, his home was gone, and whatever faith he'd had left in the world had just been shot to hell by a military tank. What was the point anymore? To keep pushing forward in a world constantly trying to pull you back was nearly impossible.

But then, giving up wasn't an option either. Not when he knew Carl had gotten out. Not when he saw that Judith was gone, along with her bag, which meant Michonne, or perhaps some other kind soul, had gotten her out as well. Just as he'd searched for Lori and Carl at the beginning of all this, just as he forced himself to keep moving forward after Lori died, he was going to make himself get off of that bed and find his family.

He wiped the tears and the anguish from his face, said goodbye to what had been Carl's room for the past 8 months, and started to gather his own supplies. Water, flashlights and batteries, food, any bullets he could find. He gathered everything with the assumption he would be finding Carl and Judith soon, so he packed a lot. He made a bag as heavy as his one good arm could carry, and then exited the prison. This was it. Goodbye to his first post-apocalyptic home. The place they'd made for themselves was burning to the ground, and his only choice was to not look back.

* * *

><p>Carl was smack dab in the middle of the prison courtyard, his blue eyes frantically searching through the wreckage for any sign of life. He saw nothing but dead bodies littering the ground, and undead bodies walking his way. His dad was nowhere to be found. Michonne was nowhere to be found. No Daryl, no Maggie, no Tyreese. It seemed that he was on his own.<p>

On the one hand, he didn't see any of their bodies on the ground, which meant they had to have gotten out. What didn't make sense to him was that his dad would've gone anywhere without him. It went against everything he knew about him. But by the time Carl had made it inside to find Judith, she was already gone. So he wondered if perhaps she was the priority, and his dad was trusting him to get out on his own. Could that have been right?

He didn't know what to think, but he knew he had to think quickly. He could see the prison bus headed down the road in the distance, and wondered if he should follow it. But no. Rick would've held Miss Jeanette, or any other driver, at gunpoint before allowing them to drive off without him.

"Shit," he shook his head, realizing that he was at a loss. Their enemies were dead, but where were their friends? Where was anybody? He quickly wiped the tears that had fallen from his eyes, pulled his gun from his holster, and began to maneuver his way through the many, many walkers that had begun to invade the yard. He did everything in his power to not have to use his gun, which was a tall order. But he'd never taken down a full walker with just a knife, and he wasn't sure he could with his giant backpack on. His only advantage here was that he was quick, and he was going to use it. _You shoot or you run_.

He made it down the gravel walkway as quickly as his feet would carry him. He kept his eyes on the outer gates, knowing that was his first landmark. He had to make it there before he could conceive his next move. And that was how he would get through this. One step at a time. One walker at a time. But he noticed a crowd of them forming, right at the exit to the road, and his heart begin to race. He couldn't use his last bullets this early.

"Shit."

He did a quick count of how many he would have to get through. It was twelve at the moment, but by the time he reached the end of the trail, it could be more than fifteen. He didn't have nearly that many bullets, and certainly not enough agility to take down even half of them.

He couldn't help but wish his dad was there, but even more so, he wished he could see his mom. He didn't miss her often, but when it hit him, it did so in a giant wave, crashing through his brain. It crippled him. And he couldn't afford to be crippled in that moment. He inhaled sharply and looked up to the sky, where he knew she was watching over him. His tears rolled backward and down his neck as he made his quiet plea. "Mom, I don't know what to do. Please just give me something."

He closed his eyes for just a second, waiting for something to will him in one direction or another. And he didn't know whether it was actually his mom, or if fear had shown itself, but since he couldn't shoot, his body made the decision to run. Not towards the pileup that had formed, but in the opposite direction, towards the woods. He ran through the thigh high grass and mud, his vision blurred by tears, past all the arms reaching for him, out of breath, saying a silent prayer that he'd made the right decision.

And his prayers were answered when he paused to catch his breath and found a pacifier on the ground at his feet. He smiled to himself, knowing it was Judith's, and glanced up at the sky again. "Thanks, Mom."

* * *

><p>"You okay?" Sasha asked softly as she noticed that Beth's sobs had come to a cease. They had been sitting on the steps outside of a funeral home, as it was the first safe-looking place they'd come across after escaping the prison. It was also the first chance they'd had to process everything that had happened, and it brought them both to tears.<p>

"I'm okay," Beth returned with a sniffle. "He died so that we could live. So that's what we gotta do."

Sasha wiped her own tear away as she tried to brush away the image of Hershel being beheaded. It was the only thing she could remember about the day, and it played in her mind over and over again. "Your father was a good man," she nodded. "He didn't deserve that."

"Nobody gets what they deserve anymore."

"That's true…"

"But like, maybe it's a good thing he doesn't have to be in this awful world anymore," Beth pondered quietly. "The prison was good for him, but maybe it's good that the last thing he had in his life was a home, with me and Maggie there, and Glenn and Rick were like sons to him…" Her words trailed off into silence as she realized that they were probably dead too.

Sasha imagined Hershel probably died in fear that his daughters were at the end of their lives, but she didn't say anything to that effect. The man did live on hope, and that could've been how he died. That's what she hoped for him, anyway.

"I know I sound crazy," she went on before Sasha could respond. "I guess I'd just rather look at the bright side of this. And not the fact that I have no idea whether my sister is alive."

"Oh god," Sasha sighed. She gently stroked the teenager's head, letting it fall to her lap, as she obviously needed the comfort. They both did, if she were being honest with herself. "I don't know where Tyreese is either. But I do think we were the last three to leave, so… maybe they're alive and together somewhere."

Beth felt a small smile forming on her face. "Maybe they're all somewhere waitin' for us. Maggie, Tyreese, Glenn, Rick, Carl… everyone."

"Maybe so." Sasha never considered herself an optimist of any kind, but she wanted to believe that so badly. It sounded ridiculous in her head, really, but her heart ached for that tiny bit of hope.

"Yeah, and maybe I'm the Queen of England." Daryl's gruff voice of dissent interrupted their bonding session. "Y'all gonna stay out here all night cryin'?"

Sasha turned towards the door, where he stood in the threshold, frowning at his entire demeanor. "So what if we do?"

"It ain't gonna bring any of 'em back."

"Neither is your drinking until you pass out."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with tryin' to numb this shitty ass pain for a night."

"And there's nothin' wrong with us hopin' that our family is somewhere out there," Beth piped up, sitting up to look at him as well.

"Yeah, 'til you realize you ain't never gonna see them again."

"Fuck you," Sasha spat back.

"Fuck you," he retorted with a shaky exhale, eyeing the two of them. He wasn't sure why he had such an incensed reaction to their conversation, but he couldn't stop himself. He was hurt, and he was going to take it out on the nearest person available.

"Look. Beth and I were having a perfectly fine evening out here, and you seemed to be enjoying your whiskey, so… let's just go back to minding our own business."

"Fair enough," he relented, turning to head back into the strange home.

Sasha rolled her eyes as their friend disappeared, then looked to Beth to make sure she was still all right. "Ignore him."

She attempted to nod, but her eyes conveyed nothing but worry. "Is he right?"

"No." She answered so quickly, she hadn't even considered the question. "I don't know," she appended with a long sigh. "Nobody's right. Nobody's wrong. The way we feel is the way we feel."

Beth accepted this as fact, but couldn't help but still feel bothered by Daryl's attitude. "Why is he drinking right now? We need to figure out where we're gonna go from here."

"It's easier than feeling," Sasha frowned. That much, she understood. "We can figure it out in the morning."

They sat in silence for a few moments, gazing at the scenery in front of them. It was a small cemetery, seemingly consisting of mainly one family, from what they could tell. Sasha imagined they all probably died before any of this mess happened, and she couldn't help but think how lucky they were.

"Maybe we should go on in and get some rest," she suggested to Beth. She was starting to feel like she could use a swig of something herself.

"Hold on," she stopped Sasha before she could leave, pointing toward the outer edge of the property. "Are those walkers?"

It was hard to tell in the dark, but it definitely looked like a small group of them, headed their way. "Shit," she shook her head as she stood from her seat. "You got your knife?"

Beth stood as well. "Yeah."

"All right, let's do this real quick. And let's hope there's not a bunch of them following behind."

With a nod, the two of them ran into the yard and began to dispatch the walkers as they so adeptly tended to do. Sasha had quietly taken down three of them with her blade, and had kicked down another one when she noticed that six more were on their way. It was so dark, there might have been even more.

Beth could also see them coming, and immediately wondered, "Should we call for Daryl?"

Making noise seemed like a bad idea, but they certainly could have used the help of his crossbow right about then. She continued to stick and move as she made her decision. "Daryl, we need you!" she shouted loudly.

They began to run for the other small pack when a car came barreling down the road. It was a dark-colored station wagon that went running into Sasha before either of the women could blink.

"Sasha!" Beth screamed when she saw her fall to the ground. She motioned to keep the approaching walkers from touching her friend, but two people hopped out of the vehicle silently – one of them went straight for Sasha, and the other grabbed her. "Dar—" The sound of her cry for Daryl was muffled as the stranger quickly threw her in the back of the car.

Daryl made it outside with his crossbow at the tail end of the chaos. Just in time to see a dark Dodge with a white cross painted on its back window. Just in time to watch it peel away. Just in time to see Beth and Sasha were gone.


	6. Lost!

**A/N: **So yeah... Sorry about that unplanned hiatus, lol. December just got super busy, and time got away from me. But I did want to update before the year is over and say THANK YOU ALL so much. I just started doing this in August, but the love you guys have shown me since Day 1 has just been such a wonderful and surprising bonus to writing about my favorite show and its characters. Thank you, thank you, thank you for helping to make my 2014 a special one. You're all so awesome, and I'm so happy for the friends I've made on here, and those of you that have made me smile and laugh and cry and all those tiny ways that we affect each other's lives. So thank you, and I'll see you in 2015! Have a happy and safe New Year, y'all! - Love, Ash

* * *

><p><strong>6 – Just Because I'm Losing Doesn't Mean I'm Lost<strong>

Carl found himself reaching the edge of the woods, unsure of which way to go. He'd followed the footsteps he found in the leaves, but it had gotten dark, and there were no more footsteps to follow. Just the empty asphalt road.

If his dad had Judith, which was the assumption, he would be looking for a place to hole up for the night. Nothing outside, but a nearby home or even a car to sleep in. So he decided to take a right, in the direction opposite the prison, hoping it wouldn't be long before he came across something. Anything. He held his flashlight in one hand, his gun and the other, and moved swiftly. Even if he didn't find his dad, he would have to find some place to stop within the next few hours.

As his footsteps pounded against the pavement, he tried to keep an ear out for any other sounds – particularly that of a walker, or some other nearby threat. What he heard was the unmistakable sound of his baby sister crying. It wasn't loud, but he knew it well, and could tell it was close. He stopped in his tracks, closed his eyes, and tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. He had gotten so used to the stillness of the new world, he forgot how loud nature could be. Wind blowing, leaves rustling, snakes rattling, crickets chirping. He couldn't place the cry, so he just called out to it.

"Dad?" He made sure to be clear, but not unnecessarily loud.

The crying stopped and a voice responded. "Carl?" It was a female voice. Michonne's.

"Michonne?" A tear fell from his eye before he knew what was happening. Relief.

"Are you okay?" Her voice sounded cautious. But she was more concerned with the fact that he was looking for his dad. _He's supposed to be with him_, she thought.

"I'm fine," he answered quickly. "Where are you?"

He saw two flashes of light, a few hundred feet ahead of him, and he ran towards it as quickly as his body would allow. A small sliver of moon was the only light they had, and it wasn't very helpful in the moment. It wasn't until he was inches away that he could actually see her and Judith's faces. He pulled them both into a hug as wide as his arms, feeling completely comforted in that moment.

Michonne was relieved too, happy to see that he was alive and well. He didn't appear to be devastated or anything, but then, she knew he had a similar detachment when he had to watch his mother die. "Carl, where's your dad?" she asked apprehensively. On the one hand, she wouldn't be able to handle hearing that he was dead, but on the other, she needed to know.

His blue eyes looked up at her sadly. It killed her how much he looked like Rick. "I dunno," he shook his head.

She exhaled and then swallowed hard. "Okay."

"No one was left when I left."

"Okay," she repeated, feeling a bit frazzled. She was thankful Judith had stopped crying, but now that was all she wanted to do. The plan was to get the kids and meet at the bus. Somehow, she ended up with the kids and no bus. And even worse, no Rick.

"What do we do?"

That was certainly the question of the day. If Rick was alive – and she had to believe he was – she couldn't think of a lot of places he would go to look for her. There was only one area close enough to walk that they'd been to together. He was smart, he was quick on his feet. So she had to believe that he would think to look for her there first.

"Okay," she sighed. "You ready to walk?"

Carl nodded. "Are we gonna look for my dad?"

"Or he's gonna look for us." She turned him around and did a quick search through his backpack for anything they might need. She had to pause when she saw one of Rick's shirts and realized Carl had brought clothes for his father as well. She shook her head to clear her mind of him. She needed to focus. "Would you rather carry your bag, or your sister?" she asked him.

"I can handle this."

"All right. Keep your flashlight in your hand, but don't turn it on unless I tell you to."

"Okay."

"We've got a long walk, and you know these things come out at night; but we're going to be fine."

He nodded again, just as a dark Dodge station wagon came speeding down the empty road. It was an odd sight, as seeing other cars on the road was such a rarity, but they thought little of it. It was going much too fast for them to stop it even if they wanted to. "Too bad we don't have a car," he commented absently as they began their trek.

"Maybe we'll find one once we find your dad."

"You really think we'll find him?" he wondered hopefully.

She had nothing but blind faith to go on, but sometimes, that was all you needed. She remembered when Rick told her that's all he had when he found Lori and Carl. So she was going to use the same. "Yes."

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later, in the pitch black of night, the duo were approaching the steps of a house Michonne hoped was still clear from the last time she'd been there. As she turned on her flashlight, she noticed the spot where she'd broken the hinge of the door, and silently hoped that this was as fresh in Rick's mind as it was in hers.<p>

"You stay behind me," she told Carl, handing over Judith. She needed to have her katana at the ready.

He took his sister into his arms, careful not to wake her, and followed Michonne, though not too closely, as she skulked towards the kitchen. He noticed a lone corpse at the kitchen table and felt compelled to poke it to make sure it was good and dead. He noticed that she didn't seem quite so concerned with it. "Have you been here before?" he inquired quietly.

"On a run, not too long ago."

"With my dad?"

"Yes."

"That's why you chose it," he gathered, using his free hand to shine light on the rest of the immediate area.

"It's the last place we've been together, outside of the prison."

Carl nodded, suddenly feeling a bit more hopeful about their chances of finding him. If he was still alive, of course. "How long do we wait?"

Michonne looked over to Carl, but without any idea of the answer to his question, all she could do was shrug. She didn't want to think about it. Because the truth was, if Rick didn't show up by morning, she wasn't sure what she would do. They certainly couldn't wait endlessly. A day, maybe two. But if Rick were alive, where else would he go?

"We'll just do whatever feels right," she finally offered softly.

Carl was okay with this. He had done what felt right and it led him to Michonne and Judith. "I trust you," he intimated seriously. "Whatever you want to do is what I'll do."

She smiled at him warmly, knowing he had to be insanely worried about his father. But the kid played it cool, and she admired him for that. And she appreciated that he was willing to depend on her to get them through this. She just hoped she didn't let him down. "Let's finish clearing this place so we can try and get some rest."

_So come along, it wont be long 'til we return happy  
><em>_Shut your eyes, there are no lies in this world we call sleep_

It took a while for Michonne to find sleep. Her body was run down, but her mind was running rampant. She had been avoiding thoughts of the others for hours, knowing she needed to concentrate on what she needed to do. But as she laid down to rest, it was all she could think about. Were they alive? Where did they go? Would she ever see them again? She knew the answers would elude her, but they kept her up for hours, until finally, her body forced her into a slumber.

_Let's desert this day of hurt  
><em>_Tomorrow we'll be free_

She awoke to the sound of Judith crying, thankful that she'd waited until daylight to disturb the peace. By the time her eyes opened and fully adjusted, she realized Carl was already taking care of her. He'd made the baby a small bed at the end of the couch and he was using it to change her diaper. Michonne couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Where are we gonna get more of these?" he asked when he noticed Michonne sit up. "We had so many at the prison, but now it's just a handful."

He was referring to Judith's diapers. And he was right, she would be through their supply by the next day, at the latest. And she knew they'd already cleared out the neighborhood, so pickings were certainly slim. "Well, back in the day, they used to use cloth diapers, you know."

Carl made a face to express his extreme disgust. "That sounds gross."

"It is," she smirked, "but we make due with what we have. Right?"

"The minute she can walk, we're potty training her."

She knew he was joking, but was not averse to the idea at all. The sooner, the better. Especially if she was going to be on her own with the two of them. Stopping to change diapers while on the run was not high on her list of things she wanted to experience.

_On her own_. The words echoed in Michonne's head like a gong, finally registering what that meant. To be alone in the wild was one thing. But to do it with these kids relying her was a completely different story. And not just any children, but Rick's children. She would have to take care of them as well as Rick would, and she wasn't sure she could do that. There was a reason children weren't running rampant in the apocalypse – it was hard to keep them safe. Her eyes fell closed as she realized the weight that was on her.

Carl felt it too, seeing how troubled his friend suddenly appeared. "No sign of my dad, huh?"

"Not yet," she admitted hesitantly. "But it's still early."

He nodded as he finished up with Judith and pulled her pants back up her little legs. "So we just keep waiting?"

"You two should eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat," she insisted, rising from her spot on the floor. "Not too much, because we have to ration this. But enough so your stomach isn't growling."

"Okay," he nodded again. "What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna head out to the main road and see if I see any signs of anyone."

"You don't want me to come?"

"No, I want you to keep Judith safe," she instructed as she swung her katana over her back. "You yell if you see anything. I should be able to hear you from out there."

"All right."

"I'll be back within the half hour."

"Be careful," he told her seriously. "We can't lose you, too."

She didn't want to respond to that, so she offered him a small smile on her way out the door. It was quite warm out already, considering the sun wasn't very high in the sky yet. But she could tell it was going to be a beautiful day, aside from the stench of death in the air. She looked back through the empty neighborhood, knowing that it would've probably been littered with kids on a morning like this back in the old days.

As she passed by the house she and Rick had used for their little rendezvous, she decided to go on inside, thinking it possible that he might've stopped there first. It was her last hope of finding him in this area, really.

She entered the home cautiously and immediately noticed that it was different from how she and Rick had left it. The place was clean the last time she'd been there, but now, empty cans were strewn throughout. Mud was tracked across the beautiful dark wood floor. She pulled her katana from its cover and listened for the sound of someone else. Silence.

"Hello?" she called out cautiously.

Silence.

She looked around for bags or clothes, or any sign that someone was still holed up there. She found it in the form of a large duffel bag, filled with guns, as well as a few cans of fruit cocktail and chopped spinach. Two things she could really, really use at the moment.

She did a quick calculation in her head and figured that she should leave the bag for the time being. If no one showed up to claim it before she left the neighborhood, she would take it. That seemed fair.

As she took one last scan of the room, she couldn't help but think of the last time she was there. She and Rick were so happy then, and they didn't even know it. They probably even took it for granted. But things had changed so drastically in just a couple of months, she would've killed to have that little insignificant moment back.

"Where are you, Grimes?" she asked out loud, hoping the universe would give her some form of an answer.

_Turn around  
><em>_I know we're lost but soon we'll be found_

Something obviously heard her loud and clear. When she opened the door, prepared to head out to the road, the top of Rick's curly mane was staring back at her as he trudged up the steps to the porch. It was him. He'd found her. "You found me," she declared, almost in disbelief, grinning at the sight of him.

He looked up at the sound of her voice, finding himself immediately overcome with emotion. She was really there, in the flesh. This wasn't some illusion or figment of his imagination. He'd found her. He slowly approached her, his striking blue eyes welling with tears, and dropped to his knees. He pulled Michonne close, holding onto her waist, and let the calm wash over him. He'd found her.

Unsure of how to react to his reaction, she just stood there, stroking his hair. She cried too, feeling as though that weight of the world was slowly lifting from her shoulders. "We're gonna be okay," she recognized, saying it for both him and herself. She felt his grip tighten and her tears came harder. She knew that he had been low before, and had probably almost given up again. She was so glad he didn't. "It's okay," she promised him. "You found me."

_Well it's been rough but we'll be just fine  
><em>_Work it out yeah, we'll survive  
><em>_You mustn't let a few bad times dictate_

"I found Carl," she told him, hoping that would bring him to his feet so she could look him in the eye. "Well he found me," she smiled through her tears. "And Judith. They're next door." She heard him sigh in relief, but he didn't move, so neither did she. "Everything's gonna be fine, Rick."

He believed her, as hard as it was. But he wanted to. He needed to. He nodded against her and then pulled back so that he could look up at her. Without words, his eyes relayed just how grateful he was, how relieved he was that this part of the fight was over. He wouldn't have to search high and low for his kids. Michonne took care of them.

He still hadn't spoken – not that there were any words that would've sufficed. But something leapt to the surface at the sound of her voice, at the sight of her face, and he'd been rendered speechless. He wasn't sure what the feeling was, but it had certainly taken him by surprise. Was it relief? Was it joy? Or was it love? He couldn't tell. Perhaps because he didn't want to know. Perhaps because falling in love with Michonne had never been on the agenda, and even less so now. But that didn't stop it from creeping up on him anyway.

_Turn away, it's just there's nothing left here to say  
><em>_Turn around, I know we're lost but soon we'll be found_

Perhaps because, sure, he'd found her… but she was the one saving him.

* * *

><p><em>Lyrics: "Soon We'll Be Found" – Sia (Some People Have Real Problems)<em>


	7. He Can Only Hold Her For So Long

**7 – He Can Only Hold Her For So Long**

Sasha could hear the hum of an engine running before her eyes even opened. She knew she was riding somewhere, and that she must have been taken against her will, as she couldn't recall anything before that. So she was hesitant to open her eyes, just in case someone was watching. She couldn't show her hand. So she continued to listen.

If she had to guess, they were probably driving about 60mph. The roads weren't clear enough to go so fast, so they had to be on a highway. She needed to open her eyes and figure out where the hell she was.

She began with a squint, immediately noting two people dressed as police officers in the two front seats – a man and a woman, seemingly oblivious to her presence at the moment. She could feel another person to her right, and craned her neck ever-so-slightly, fully opening her eyes to find that it was Beth. The teen was slumped towards the door, probably knocked out in the same manner she had been. _What the hell happened_, Sasha wondered.

She knew they had been kidnapped. But why? Why were these two people dressed as cops pulling two women into a vehicle with a medical cross painted on its back? And where was Daryl? Had they taken him too? Was he dead? She needed answers.

"What the hell is goin' on," she decided to come right out and demand.

"Oh, you're awake," the male kidnapper replied as if he'd been waiting for her to ask that very question. "That's good. We weren't sure you'd make it."

"What?"

"You were getting overrun by those rotters. Then when we came in to help, you got knocked out. Thought you'd be out the whole trip."

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Officer O'Donnell, this is Officer Shepherd," he introduced himself and his female companion. "We saved you."

"Bullshit. You took me and my friend against our will."

"Ma'am, you were being overrun," Shepherd interjected. "We saved you."

"I didn't need saving."

"You were in the middle of the road without any kind of supplies. No food. No water. Not even any guns. We're doing you a favor."

"And what does that translate to?"

"We're taking you back to our camp in Atlanta," O'Donnell replied. "Trust me, you'll be thanking us soon."

"Atlanta?"

"The capital of this great state of Georgia. Maybe you've heard of it."

Sasha sat up quickly, ignoring the pain searing through her lower body. "I don't wanna go to Atlanta."

"What you got against it?"

"Let me out of this car." She said it as calmly as her emotions would allow, but inside, she was screaming. "Please."

Shepherd turned to look at her, moved by the obvious anxiety written all over her face. "Ma'am, just calm down."

"Please don't tell me to calm down when I'm already calm."

"Well just relax. We'll be there soon enough."

"Let me out of this car," she said louder this time. Loud enough to stir Beth from her unconsciousness.

Beth felt comforted by the fact that she was still with Sasha, but the alarm in her voice was obvious. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew she needed to be on the same page as her. She subtly got her attention by wiggling her fingers along the car seat until Sasha noticed and rested her hand over hers.

"Listen," Sasha stated softly. "I understand that you're trying to help, but our family is back where you picked us up. And I'd appreciate it if you would let us go back."

"I hate to break it to you," O'Donnell chuckled, "but there was nothin' back there, darlin'. Nothin' but rotters."

"What difference does it make to you?"

"We help you, you help us," he explained simply. "And we need the help."

Beth squeezed Sasha's hand, willing her to not lose her temper. If she did, it could easily get them killed, and she knew it. "Just take me," Beth offered, hoping to keep the peace. "Let Sasha go and you can take me."

"No," Sasha inserted forcefully.

"It's a compromise," she whispered to her companion.

"It's not an option."

"Now wait a minute," O'Donnell offered. The smirk on his face was so smug, it was filling the car. "We may be able to work somethin' out."

"No."

"Sasha, we're obviously not both getting out of here. Just let me go, and you find Daryl and the others."

"Your sister would kill me," she hissed back at Beth. "No!"

"Sasha."

"Come on, Sasha," Shepherd jumped in. "This way, we all get something we want."

"I don't want this," she replied emphatically. Beth's bright blue eyes begged her to focus on the bigger picture and the fact that one of them needed to get out of there if both of them couldn't. She hated to accept this prospect, but it was certainly better than both of them heading off to Atlanta for god knows what. "We're not splitting up," she mouthed to the teenager. She then turned to the officers and offered her surrender. "Fine, stop the car."

The two officers glanced at one another before pulling off to the side of the road. "Are you sure you can walk?" Shepherd asked. "It's a good twenty miles back to Senoia."

"I'll be fine," Sasha answered tersely, knowing she had no plans on walking anywhere. She inconspicuously pulled her knife from her boot as O'Donnell made his way out of the car to let her out. "Beth, you take care of yourself," she told her friend cryptically.

"I will," she promised, seeing that Sasha obviously had some kind of plan in place. She had no idea what it was, but she would follow her lead like her life depended on it. Because it did.

* * *

><p>Daryl and Rick walked side by side along the train tracks, Rick with Judith in his arms, as they approached yet another sign for the mysterious land of Terminus. They'd been seeing them nonstop ever since the Grimes faction came across Daryl sitting beneath one of them. It didn't take long for them to decide that would be the most likely place for them to find the others. The more they saw the signs, the more they believed this to be true.<p>

"It's crazy that the four of y'all managed to get out together," Daryl commented, referring to Rick, Michonne, and the kids.

Rick watched Carl and Michonne a few feet ahead of them, playing some game where they were balancing along the tracks. He smiled at the sight. "We didn't get out together," he finally explained to his friend. "She found the kids, and I found her."

"Shit."

"Yeah," he nodded, taking a look down at his daughter, making sure she was still all right. "By the time I was done with The Governor and made my way inside, everyone was gone."

"I got out with Sasha and Beth," he mumbled quietly. He didn't want Michonne to hear. "I lost 'em, though."

Rick frowned at this information, unsure of how to take it. It's pretty difficult to just lose someone, and Daryl was the type to say they were dead if they were dead. "Lost?"

"They were taken," he shrugged, hoisting Michonne's huge duffel bag further onto his shoulder. "I dunno."

"You weren't there?"

"I was bein' too much of an asshole to take care of 'em. I shoulda been with 'em, but I wasn't."

Rick could understand that sentiment more than he cared to admit. "But they're still alive?"

"Assumin' so."

Rick nodded, softly running his hands over Judith's blonde hair. Her forehead was warm, and damp with sweat. "Michonne," he called out, wanting her to put a pause on their little game.

"A little busy here, Senior Grimes," she called back, still trying to keep her balance.

"Well I need water for Baby Grimes, if you don't mind."

"Oh fine," she stopped in her tracks on the tracks and turned for Carl. "Time out, Junior Grimes."

"I thought we didn't get any time outs," he narrowed his eyes at her playfully. "No fair."

"You're really gonna make me forfeit so I can save your sister?"

"Yep."

"That's cold," she grinned at her younger friend before turning for his father. She searched their food supply for the opened bottle of water and handed it over to Rick. "She okay?" she eyed him carefully and then the infant. She was so deep in her sleep, she looked unconscious.

"Yeah, just runnin' a little hot," he nodded, accepting a bandana from Daryl. "I think we oughta start looking for somewhere to settle down for the night."

She nodded. "There's gotta be some houses around here somewhere."

"I hope so. I need a bed."

She smirked at him, but immediately reminded herself that Daryl was there. "You okay over there, Mr. Dixon?"

"I'm all right," he nodded. "Even with this heavy ass bag."

"Thank you for carrying it."

"You took all this from the prison?"

"Found it," Rick inserted with a small yawn. "Just sittin' in an empty house."

"That's some kinda luck."

"About time, isn't it," Michonne smiled softly. She refocused on Rick and Judith as she returned their water to her bag. "You want me to take her for a while?"

"Nah, we're all right," he offered a discreet wink and a small grin. "You two can continue your game."

"Your kid made me forfeit. I'm not so sure I wanna keep playing."

"He's a man of honor," Rick shrugged jokingly. "Can't hold that against him."

"Like father like son," she agreed, turning back for Carl and their balancing act.

Daryl looked to Rick, noting the goofy grin on his friend's face, causing him to chuckle quietly. He was glad to see someone somewhat happy, in spite of all the disaster surrounding them. "So I guess this past week has been good to y'all."

"How do you mean?" Rick looked over to him.

"Y'all turned into a family all of a sudden."

He smirked at the idea, but he knew that had been true for a long time. "Isn't that what we all are? Hershel was like a father. You're my brother…"

Daryl nodded in agreement, but didn't know how to respond to that. He was never the best at expressing or even accepting feelings. "So that would make Michonne your… wife?"

"I don't know about all that," Rick chuckled quietly. "She's good with the kids."

"So was Carol. Never seen you look at her like you do Michonne."

His face immediately began to turn a bright red, not far from the shade of the bandana draped over Judith's head. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about."

Daryl chuckled at the fact that he'd made his friend blush, but he couldn't figure out why he was being so bashful. From what he could tell, the feelings were mutual, at least. "All right, man. Have it your way."

* * *

><p>As darkness fell, the five of them came across what would have to make due as their homes for the night – a couple of abandoned cars. After a small debate, Carl and Judith slept in a large blue SUV, where Rick would join them after his shift taking watch. Daryl took to an old red Tercel parked about half a mile away, promising he would be fine until his turn on duty.<p>

Once dinner was finished, Michonne and Rick decided to take watch together. They sat on the road, close to the kids, using a giant log as a back to their seats on the ground. "It's a really beautiful night," Michonne noted, staring up at the sky. She would've bet money she could count a thousand stars in that moment.

"Every night is beautiful with you sitting here." He knocked his boot against hers before looking over to see her reaction. She smiled brightly at the compliment.

"Why do you always do this?"

"Do what?"

"You leave me speechless. Constantly."

"There's nothin' wrong with not talkin'," he smirked. They were already sitting closely, but he moved in enough so that their legs were touching. He rested his hand on her thigh, waiting for her to take it.

She completed the action, immediately reveling in the sense of his touch again. His hands were rough and warm, as usual. "Almost forgot what this feels like."

"It hasn't been that long, has it?"

"Well it hasn't been a month or anything," she admitted, knowing she had been the reason for them being apart more often than not. "But a couple of weeks, which was unexpected."

"Well… here's to being alone for the first time since the last time," hr grinned. He immediately dove for her neck, licking at every crevice, and kissed his way up her chin until he found her lips.

"Rick..."

He didn't stop as he replied, "What?"

She wanted to pull away, say they couldn't do this there. Carl was just a few feet away. But his lips felt so good and the reality was, she didn't want to stop. She wanted everything right then and there, and didn't care who was there to see it. "Just hold on a sec," she finally managed to get out between kisses. She used the moment to hop on top of him, straddling his waist.

"There you are," he smirked, getting a full view of her gorgeous face. It really was nice to be this close, even if it was a bit torturous on his broken ribs. He held her face, gazing into her big chocolate orbs as if he'd never seen them before.

She suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable under his stare and looked down, resting her hands on his hips. She soon felt Rick harden against the underside of her thigh and she smirked back up at him. "And there you are."

With a small chuckle, he went in for another kiss as his hands roamed down her back until they rested on her perfect round ass. She giggled quietly into his mouth as he squeezed excitedly. She loved how every time was like the first time with him.

"We're just gonna do this out in the open like this, huh?"

"Why not," he shrugged, moving his hands around front to unbutton her shirt. His tongue moved across her cleavage as quickly as he uncovered it. Her skin was so warm and so soft, it was driving him insane.

"I want you all the time," she admitted to him softly, reveling in the feel of his kisses. "Even when I'm sad, even when I feel like crying, I think about this. With you."

He stopped for a moment to look up at her. It was an odd thing to say in the moment, made even weirder to him because he felt the same way. In the midst of all their highs and lows, he felt most comforted with her by his side. He wanted nothing more than to be with her all the time. Thoughts of what their lives would be like once this was all over often invaded his mind. But then he remembered that this would never be over, so he had to push it all back down. "I like you too," he replied simlply.

She gave him a small smile, running her hands through his hair as she continued their kiss. His fingers were on the verge of going down her pants when he felt the cold barrel of a gun flush against his temple.

"Oh deary me," a strange voice declared as he came into view under the moonlight. "Look what we have here."

Michonne looked up to see an older white man holding a gun to Rick's head and immediately moved to grab her katana. Instead, it was kicked out of her grasp, and some unknown entity pulled her from Rick's lap. Rick tried to hold onto her hand, and she did her best to not let go, but she was thrown to the ground, causing them to separate.

"Today is the day of reckoning, sir. Restitution. A balancing of the whole damn universe."

Soon, they were surrounded by five guys, all varying degrees of dirty and menacing. Rick held his hands up, but kept his eyes on Michonne and the kids' car to make sure nothing was happening to them. "Restitution for what," he asked hoarsely. He could understand being robbed, but he hadn't done anything warranting revenge.

"Don't add insult to injury and act like you don't know what I'm talkin' about," the man with his gun on Rick retorted. "Or maybe you're just used to stealing everything a man owns and expecting not to answer for it."

Rick frowned, knowing he hadn't stolen anything from anyone. And then he remembered the bag. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "We didn't know you'd be back for it-."

"And now you do."

"For all we knew, the owner was dead," Michonne inserted, her eyes darting to each of the men surrounding them. Guns everywhere.

"Listen, you can have your stuff back. Just take it and leave us alone," Rick suggested calmly. "No reason for this to escalate."

"Look, we're reasonable men. You take somethin' of ours, we simply take somethin' of yours." The man that was obviously the leader of the group let out a short whistle and immediately, one of his lackeys was pulling Michonne to her feet. "Now see, that right there is a nice consolation prize," he said, eyeing the length of her body. "Always did have a thing for sweet black pussy. I s'pose we got that in common," he chuckled patting Rick on the back.

"Leave her alone," Rick replied quietly but seriously.

"Oh, you don't wanna give her up?"

"Hey Joe," one of the others called out to the leader. "There's a kid up in this here truck."

"Even better," Joe smiled maliciously, his gun still aimed at Rick's head. "Two for the price of one."

"Don't you dare fuckin' touch him," Rick warned him.

"Now, now. You know nothing's free on this world... Even when you steal it." He fell silent as one of his comrades pulled a terrified Carl from the car, holding a knife to the boy's throat. "Tell you what. I'm in a generous mood tonight, so how about this. We'll only have one of them. You pick."

"You better let him go," Rick ignored his offer, seeing nothing but red as he realized the danger his son was in. Judith was crying now, which was like a cattle call for any walker within a few hundred yards. He needed to move quickly. "Let him go," he repeated more forcefully this time.

Michonne could see the wheels turning in Rick's head. This was a very different man from the one that had tried to talk The Governor off the ledge just a week ago. There was rage bubbling under the surface, and it was on the verge of erupting.

"You hear this?" Joe laughed, focusing his attention on Michonne. "He's willing to let us rape you just to save his little bastard son that'll probably be dead within a week anyway." He found this extremely insulting and therefore, extremely funny, cackling loudly in Rick's ear. "Hope you didn't think he was in love with you or any-" He was cut off mid sentence by a headbutt from Rick, causing him to accidentally shoot his gun into the ground before stumbling backwards.

Hearing the gunshot at such close range caused Rick to lose his bearings for just a moment, but he and Joe were in a fist fight before he knew it. He remembered throwing the first punch, but Joe had gone on a rampage, punching and kicking him in several spots where he was already injured. It was quickly turning into a losing battle.

"Dad!" Carl was screaming.

Over the ringing in his ears, he heard the sound of his son calling for help. It's a devastating thing to hear in any situation, but for one in which you feel nearly helpless, it was unbearable. He was doing his best to get to him, but Joe, throwing several punches his way, was making it impossible. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see both Carl and Michonne had been thrown to the ground and fighting off their attackers. It was time to kill or be killed.

Seeing that Rick's focus had been taken, Joe pulled him into a debilitating bear-hug, making sure he couldn't move a muscle. Amused by the man's powerlessness, he asked, "The hell you gonna do now, sport?"

Rick answered by taking a large bite out of his throat.

* * *

><p>"You okay?"<p>

"Yeah," Michonne answered emphatically, keeping her eyes on the man that had just saved her life. Again.

"I'm okay." He told her for her sake, but he probably needed to say it out loud for himself. He'd done the only thing he could to save the people he loved, and that really was okay.

She offered a small smile, enjoying the fact the she already understood that. "I know."

"How?"

"Because I'm okay, too."

He took that in as they continued down the train tracks towards Terminus. Carl and Judith were a few feet ahead of them, and Daryl another few feet in front of them. It was most definitely a good feeling to go through some kind of turmoil and come out on the other side without having lost anyone.

"Hey," Michonne called out to him, seeing him lost in his thoughts. When he turned towards her, she held out her hand.

"What's this about?" he smirked.

She shook her head at his obliviousness and took his hand into hers, interlocking their fingers. "It's not about anything. I just wanna be close to you."

He remembered what she said the night before, about wanting him all the time. It echoed in his head, conjuring up feelings of joy and apprehension, because he knew he felt the same way, and that scared him. It was a distraction. It was the last thing he needed to focus on, yet it was the only thing he could focus on. He loved this woman.

"Maybe now isn't the best time," he whispered, releasing his hand from her grasp. "We should concentrate on getting to Terminus."

She frowned, finding his reaction a bit odd, but decided to let it go. Besides, he was right. The previous night had more than proven that they had no time to let their guards down. "Right," she nodded. "Okay."

"We're close," he went on to remind her as if she didn't know. "But we have no idea what's about to happen. We need our defenses up."

"I get it, Rick." She understood what he was saying probably even better than he did. The two of them were close – they were right on the cusp, in fact, of turning their mostly physical relationship into something real. But he obviously had his walls up now, and there was nothing she could do about that. "Not now."

"Right," he confirmed, just before leaving her to go catch up to Daryl. "Not now."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hmm, did Joe's assault bring all those lovely feelings between Rick and Michonne to a halt? How is Carl handling all this? And what the hell happened with Beth and Sasha? Stay tuned!

Btw, to those of you reading The Other Woman, I will be updating that soon! I just didn't wanna be at the exact same spot in both stories, so I started moving this one along a little further since it'll have a lot more chapters. But I'll see you guys soon, I promise! -Ash


	8. Cállate

**8 – Cállate**

"_You're on your own, Martin."_

The young man dropped his supply of fireworks to pull his walkie-talkie from his back pocket. "You don't have to tell me. I wipe my own ass," he replied sarcastically. He looked up to the sky, gauging how much time and space he had, before he went on with his conversation. "Alex didn't get it, see. I knew that Sasha bitch was bad news when she showed up. Clothes covered in blood and shit."

"_He was always a flappy-ass motherfucker_," the voice on the other end replied.

He smiled in amusement at her answer. "Yeah, I told Albert not to kill the blonde girl yet, I want my shot before they bleed her out-" The sound of a gun cocking against his head brought his sentence to a halt.

"Keep your finger off the button and drop it," Rick instructed, referring to the radio. His Southern drawl was covered in authority as his blue eyes narrowed on their new hostage.

"Listen, y'all don't have to do this," Martin replied, while his comrade on the walkie continued to speak. "Whatever you want. We got a place where everyone's welcome."

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl retorted angrily.

"Okay…"

"We're friends with 'that Sasha bitch' and the blonde girl," Rick added.

Martin nodded, understanding that he was low on options then. The two men dragged him into the adjacent abandoned cabin and tied his arms behind his back using an old seat belt, while the woman and the kid holding the baby followed closely behind. He knew the likelihood of him getting out alive was low, but seeing them with a baby gave him a shred of hope that they would have mercy. They had to have some semblance of humanity if they'd kept two kids alive. "They attacked us," he declared desperately. "We're just holdin' them."

"I don't believe you," Rick answered evenly.

Daryl was walking in circles, unsure of why Rick seemed so calm about this. He was more than eager to get to Terminus, knowing at least two of their friends were still alive, but his friend seemed to be in no hurry. "Who else y'all got?"

"Just Sasha and Beth. That's it." He continued to insist, "We're just protectin' ourselves."

"I don't believe you," Rick repeated, glancing at him coolly. He and Michonne did a quick search through Martin's supplies, finding fireworks and food. He gave her a nod, and she immediately recognized that he would be leaving.

"How are you gonna do this?" she asked softly, unable to stop herself from examining his face. He had been so unbelievably composed since the night before, it was almost beginning to worry her.

"I'm gonna kill them," he nodded, but avoided her gaze, glancing over to where Carl and Judith stood near the door.

She nodded as well, knowing that that was likely the only option. They'd heard a long round of gunshots a few minutes earlier, and they were pretty sure none of their people had that much ammo. "You be careful out there."

"You be careful in here," he smirked as his eyes scanned the room and then Martin.

"We will," she assured him. She subtly ran her hand over his for just a second, silently pleading for him to come back to them.

Rick went to Carl and Judith, giving each of them a kiss on the top of their heads. "You take care of your sister."

"I always do," Carl confirmed, offering a small smile to his dad. He knew he would be back, but whenever they parted ways, it was hard to swallow. "Do you think everyone is there?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't know," he shook his head as he hoisted Martin's bag over his shoulder, along with a rifle. "Let's hope so."

"If they are, we're gonna find 'em," Daryl promised, taking a gun for himself.

* * *

><p>Rick and Daryl arrived at the gates to Terminus, almost surprised by how tame and uninteresting it all appeared. After hearing so many gunshots, they figured the place would have been guarded from top to bottom, but at first glance, it looked like an abandoned old train station. Greenery was the only sign of life they could find when they approached.<p>

"It's obvious somethin' ain't right," Daryl proclaimed, eyeing the largest building in the compound. "All those signs leadin' people here and there ain't a soul walkin' around?"

"I was just thinkin' that," Rick agreed.

"Don't make sense, Sasha goin' in here. She's smarter than that…"

"That kid said she was covered in blood," Rick reminded him. "She might've been desperate. Maybe injured."

He accidentally dropped his gun at the thought. He never stopped to think that Sasha might have been covered in her own blood. "You think so?"

"I don't know," he answered obliviously, peering towards a set of boxcars at the opposite end of the fences, noting a lot of movement all of a sudden. "You see that?"

He snapped out of his thoughts to see what Rick was referring to. A few hundred feet away, they could see four armed men enter a train car. The two of them skulked along the gate to get a better view, but stopped in their tracks when they saw four of their people – Glenn, Bob, Sasha, and Carol – being dragged out. They were bound and gagged, possibly drugged, as it didn't look like they were putting up a fight as they were hauled off towards a building that looked like a warehouse.

"If Glenn's here, Maggie is probably here," Rick observed, frowning at the sight.

"And we know they got Beth. So that's at least six."

"I'm guessin' there's more in there or they would've brought 'em all out," he deduced with a sigh. He didn't know what was about to happen to those four, but he could make an educated guess that it wasn't good. "What's the point in bleeding someone out?"

"I dunno." Daryl bit at his bottom lip and shook his head, knowing the two of them would never be able to get into the mind of a psychopath. "Torture?"

"But why lure people in here just to torture them?" As much as he understood that there were just evil people in the world, it seemed like a lot of work – the signs, the radio transmittal, the whole façade – just to torment innocent people.

"Ain't got time to figure it out now," he shrugged. The earlier gunshots had brought on a barrage of walkers, and they were beginning to convene outside the gates. "We gotta get in there before they do."

Rick nodded in agreement and began to pull the fireworks from his bag, preparing for their assault on Terminus.

* * *

><p>"He's gonna be back," Carl assured Michonne, seeing the look of worry that wouldn't leave her face.<p>

She sat on the floor near the door, with Judith laid across her lap, fast asleep. She smiled warmly at the teenager as she rubbed the infant's back. "I know."

"You look like you're not sure."

"I just wish I was there, I guess."

"You didn't have to stay."

"No, I didn't," she granted, watching him pace back and forth across the floor. "Why don't you come sit with us."

"I don't wanna sit," he declined brusquely.

"Carl…"

"If I sit down, I'm gonna explode."

Michonne was hesitant to have a serious conversation with him in front of the stranger from Terminus, but she could tell he needed to talk, and she really wanted to listen. "Come sit," she softly insisted, nodding towards the empty spot beside her. "Talk to me."

He reluctantly did as directed and took a seat next to his friend, taking off his hat to rest his head against the wall. "I miss the prison," he sighed.

"It was safe," Michonne agreed, staring down at Judith. She couldn't help but ponder what kind of life these children would lead if they didn't find another similar place soon. "Until it wasn't."

"I thought I hated my dad being a farmer, but…"

"This is scary," she understood. "For him, too."

"What's scary is that I understand now, what he would do to protect me and Judith. I mean, he bit a guy's throat out to save me and you last night." He shook his head, still in disbelief that that happened. "I spent all this time being mad at him for wanting to have a normal life, for taking away my gun and making me do chores around the prison. I took for granted the fact that he would _die_ for me."

She gave him a small smile. He was right, he had certainly taken his father for granted. But the fact that he recognized it, finally, would be a huge step in their relationship, and that made her happy for them. "That's what parents do, Carl. His only job in the world is to keep you two alive."

"Yeah, but what's the point if he's gone?" he wondered seriously. His baby blues searched Michonne's face for a legitimate answer to the question, even though he knew she wouldn't have one. "If that guy had killed him last night, I'd have to find some way to go on without him. And I'd do it, and I'd take care of Judith… but it would suck so much. Why would a parent want that for their kid?"

She sighed heavily and rested her head against the wall as well. "It's not what he'd want. But if the choice is between him and you, or him and Judith… he's gonna choose you two every time."

"I know," he nodded. "I just wish he wouldn't."

"I wish he didn't have to."

"That, too."

"Your father is a good man," she reminded him softly. "That's something you should be proud of. Not sad about."

"I am proud," he assured her quickly. "I guess I just think about how Beth had to watch her dad die and I can't help but think that's gonna be me one day."

She winced at the mere notion, and glanced over at him with a small shake of her head. She didn't know why his words surprised her. It made sense that these thoughts probably crossed his mind every day. She just never realized what kind of weight he carried around with him. "Jesus, kid."

"I know…"

"That's why you miss the prison."

"I was safe, which meant my dad was safe."

"Well how safe were we really? If someone could just show up and blow it all to hell."

"That's true." His eyes landed on Martin, sitting there listening to them. He didn't care, because he knew his dad would probably kill the guy the minute they got back. But he wondered if he had been through anything even close to what they'd experienced. Probably not, he thought. Bad stuff seemed to only happen to good people. "Michonne?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you think when you saw my dad do that last night?"

She smirked as she recalled her thoughts when she saw Rick's face covered in blood as Joe fell to the ground. "You mean after my mind stopped screaming, '_Holy shit_?'"

"Yes, after that," he chuckled.

"Well, after all was said and done, I realized that that is exactly the man I know your dad to be. He's crazy, and protective, and reliable. What he did last night is the reason why I love him."

Carl's eyes widened to the size of saucers as he looked over at Michonne. They had been speaking at a fairly low volume, but his voice went up a few decibels as he replied to her admission. "You do?"

She almost hated to admit it, especially with the way he'd been so aloof all morning, but what was the point in denying it anymore? "I do."

"Since when?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, her eyes looking up to the ceiling. "It just hit me one day, and it seems a bit silly to keep trying to pretend I don't. Don't you think?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He couldn't stop himself from smiling. "Does he love you, too?"

She found herself smirking again. "Honestly? I don't know."

* * *

><p>Rick carefully made his way through the Terminus courtyard, doing his best to avoid the throngs of walkers that had invaded the place. He and Daryl had let them in and then used a combination of gas and fireworks to cause an explosion. The entire place turned to chaos rather quickly, which gave them the opportunity to split up and find their friends. Daryl had gone to free the people trapped in the boxcar, while Rick made it his mission to take out anyone that even looked like an enemy.<p>

He'd gone through a series of rooms before stumbling across one that appeared to be a shrine of some sort. It was filled with burning candles and personal effects, with names and numbers inscribed on the floor. It was an odd sight in the face of all the other things he'd seen there – medieval, cannibalistic stuff. The memorial seemed so out of place.

_Never again. Never trust. We first, always. _Rick stared at the words painted on the closest wall, trying to figure out what it all meant.

"Kind of our mantra around here," a male voice declared just ahead of its footsteps.

Rick turned immediately, his gun ready to fire, a bit surprised to find a twenty-something unarmed kid staring back at him. He didn't speak, but stared at him coldly, almost daring him to continue speaking.

"It was between this one and, 'Are you the butcher or the cattle?'" he accepted the silent challenge as he gazed at the wall himself. He looked at it as if he were feeling nostalgic. "Difficult but necessary lesson we learned."

Rick still didn't speak.

"I'm Gareth," the guy went on. He seemed bizarrely upbeat for a guy whose home was on fire and crawling with walkers. It was as though he was amused by it all. "You must be Rick," he knew from the way Glenn had described the man. He seemed positive that this guy would be coming, and lo and behold, he was right. "It's actually pretty cool to meet you. Your friends didn't even know if you were alive, but they said if you were, you'd find them. And here you are."

"Here I am," he finally spoke, keeping his gun and his eyes narrowed in on his subject. "You should've listened to them."

"Yeah, I guess so," Gareth agreed with raised eyebrows. "But we never had bad intentions."

"Yet here we are."

"It wasn't just a trap," he promised enthusiastically. "They had a choice. Either join us or feed us…"

"All those stuffed animals in that other room, those were from people you gave a choice?"

He offered a sarcastic shrug. "I can't account for bad parenting."

"You're a monster."

"The signs were real. It was a sanctuary," he contended, shaking his head. "But people came, and they took this place. They raped. And they killed. And they laughed. You ever have to watch your mom get raped, Rick?"

He shook his head, but couldn't help but think what would have happened to Carl the night before if he hadn't been able to save them.

"When you've felt helpless once, you'll do anything to never have to feel it again," Gareth nodded seriously. "We fought back, and we got this place back. But we heard the message loud and clear. You're the butcher or you're the cattle."

Rick was well aware of that helpless feeling, and on some level, even understood the urge to want revenge. But preying on innocent people never once crossed his mind, and so, he wasn't buying what Gareth was selling. "Where are the people they pulled from that train car?"

"You know, people don't taste as bad as you might think," Gareth went on to casually explain, as if Rick had asked for the details. "Women are actually pretty good. My brother Alex… who, by the way, is currently dead because of your people. He had this theory that it's because of the extra layer of fat women have. For childbearing, apparently. Even the skinny girls have it…" He looked Rick squarely in the eye as he added, "Like that one woman you were walking through the woods holding hands with. I bet she tastes good." He slowly licked his lips before smiling at the man in front of him. "Doesn't she?"

He could feel his face growing hot, but Gareth was clearly instigating, and he knew he needed to maintain his composure. "Where are my people?"

"Well, Rick, all my people are dead, so I can't say I give a fuck about helping you find yours."

"Those your last words?" he wanted to confirm, aiming his gun directly at the young man's forehead.

"You could've been one of us. You could've listened to—"

Rick didn't actually have time for last words. He put a bullet through his skull and took a small pleasure in the sound of his body falling to the ground. "Shut up," he told the corpse, just before walking away.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Martin whispered, attempting to get Carl's attention when he noticed Michonne was preoccupied with the baby. "Did your dad really bite out someone's throat?"<p>

"Don't talk to him," Michonne commanded firmly.

"I can talk to whoever I want," he shot back, smacking loudly on his chewing gum. "Kid, you don't have to listen to her. She ain't your mama."

"You should stop talking," Carl suggested calmly, much in a manner like his dad's.

"You can take care of his kids and wipe his baby's ass, but that don't make you their mama," he went on. "I know you gotta know how stupid you look, sitting around waiting to die with some random man's children. How long have you even known him? A couple months? You love him," he snickered, ignoring the fact that Michonne and Carl were clearly trying to ignore him. "You love him because he lets you take care of his kids? Congrats on bein' the nanny. And probably a pretty good fuck. But you sleeping with their dad doesn't make you their mom."

Carl was frowning now, offended for Michonne. "Stop it," he warned, his hand grazing his gun.

"Trust me, kid," he rolled his eyes. "I mean, it's obvious y'all've been through a lot, but once the dust settles, your dad ain't gonna need a babysitter or some samurai to go to war with. He's gonna find a nice homemaker, probably someone like whoever your actual mom was, and y'all will all forget this woman ever existed."

Michonne wasn't rattled by many things, including the notion that Rick was using her, or anything else Martin had said. He could say what he wanted to her. But she couldn't stand by idly while he tried to use his psychological warfare to get to Carl. She may not have given birth to him, but she cared for him as much as any mother would. And much like Rick, any threat to her kid would have to be eliminated. She slowly pulled her katana from its sheath and approached their talkative prisoner. "You got anything else you wanna say?"

"Oh come on, you gonna kill me for tellin' the truth? You'll die-."

His sentence was cut off by Michonne's sword, slicing across his throat. She watched his blood trickle down his body as it slumped to the floor, before using her knife to stop him from reanimating. As she wiped her weapon, she gave him one last glance of disapproval. "Shut up."


	9. The Worst

**A/N: **First and foremost, thank you guys so much for the awesome feedback on the last chapter. It was another one of those that was very easy to write, and I really hoped you would like it. I have to say, Richonne shippers are seriously some of my favorite people on this earth. You guys just get it, I swear. KK, I legitimately cracked up reading your review - mainly because I feel like you might be me? These are also the exact reasons I love me some Rick Grimes. That walkkk. I get happy just thinking about it! He might look like a dirty hobo right now, but... dat walk tho.

And I appreciate that y'all caught the shade I threw through Martin. It was, indeed, cathartic! But BabyKay47, it wasn't solely for that reason. Martin is a smart dude, he sat there listening to them for a while, and figured he could rattle them if he went for the emotional jugular, so to speak. Much in the same way he tried to get to Tyreese on the show. And of course he needed to do it before the guy that bites throats out got back. So I apologize if it seemed to come out of left field. But unlike freaking Tyreese, Michonne was here for exactly none of his shenanigans and got rid of that threat before any of that panned out, lol. Hope that makes sense.

Anywho, on to the next one. (Some of you may find that your predictions came true. Oooh.) Haha, hope you enjoy! -Ash

* * *

><p><strong>9 – Don't Take This Personal, But You're The Worst<strong>

"I'd like to propose a toast. I look around this room and I see survivors. Each and every one of you has earned that title. To the survivors," Abraham Ford proclaimed, raising his glass to his friends, old and new. "Is that all you wanna be? Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night, two eyes open, rinse and repeat? 'Cause you can do that. I mean you got the strength. You got the skill. Thing is, for you people, for what you can do, well that's just surrender. Now we get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die and the living will have this world again. And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip. Eugene, what's in DC?"

"Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics, even of this FUBAR magnitude. That means food, fuel, refuge. Restart."

"However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in… you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started. Come with us. Save the world for that little one. Save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there that don't got nothin' left to do except survive."

Rick looked around the small room, filled with the people he loved most in the world. Carl, Judith, Michonne, Glenn, Carol… everyone was back together. And they'd even managed to bring some new ones into the fold without having to threaten to kill them. But now they wanted to run off to Washington, DC to supposedly save the world, and he wasn't sure if he believed in such a mission. Even if, by some miracle, Eugene wasn't full of it, the world might have been already too far gone to save.

He didn't know what the answer was, and he could tell by the looks on everyone else's faces that they didn't either. He turned to Abraham and gave him as genuine answer as he could. "I don't know what to think. I don't know if I believe in this dream you're sellin'. Right now, we've got four walls and a roof, and even some food to put in our stomachs, and I'm not one to leave that behind so quickly. But… we can talk about it. We can all make a decision together in the morning."

Everyone seemed fairly satisfied with that answer, even Abraham, who was itching to get back on the road. But he sat down, and they continued their festivity. They'd found each other, as well as an abandoned church to hole up in for a while, and that was worth celebrating.

Daryl and Sasha sat in a corner together, sharing a plate of fresh carrots they'd taken from Terminus, while they watched their friends interact. Beth and Maggie were talking on a pew, a few feet away; Glenn, Bob, and Rick sat near the altar with Judith; Carol was making sure Carl had a full plate; Tyreese was introducing Michonne to their new friends – Tara, Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene. It was a beautiful sight, having the gang back together.

"I still can't believe we all found each other," Sasha sighed in amazement. "Stuff like that just doesn't happen anymore."

"Guess that place was good for somethin'," Daryl agreed, referring to Terminus.

"I thought you were dead," she admitted, feeling almost bad for giving up on him. "We were just trying to find some place to escape to."

Daryl was never one to give up on something or someone, no matter how low the odds, but he understood why she had. The way she and Beth were taken, it was truly hard to fathom ever seeing each other again. "What happened out there?" he had to ask.

She shook her head, not wanting to relive her kidnapping. "I still don't really know. One minute, Beth and I were killing a bunch of walkers that had come up on the funeral home. The next minute, I was in this car, with a man and a woman dressed as police officers in the front seats."

"That was the car with the cross on it."

"Yep," she nodded slowly. "They said they were taking us to their camp in Atlanta. I could barely walk, but I knew I wasn't going to anybody's Atlanta, so I told them to let me out."

"It was that easy?"

"Absolutely not," she scoffed. "They wanted to keep Beth. So when the guy gets out of the car to release me, we killed them." Daryl glanced up at her, obviously not expecting to hear that; but he didn't speak, so she continued. "I was able to get the woman quick, but Beth had to stab the guy to stop him from strangling me. Then I finished it."

"Goddamn…"

"It was surreal."

"Were they your first?"

"Killing the living?" She nodded. "Thing is, I didn't even hesitate. When they said they wanted to take Beth, I knew that that was what had to happen."

"That's usually how it is," he shrugged. "Ain't no time to stop and think anymore. That's how you end up locked in a boxcar."

"You're right," she smirked. "I knew Terminus was fucked up when we walked in there. But we had already driven back to the funeral home and you weren't there. I didn't know where else to go. Where else would I find you?"

He held back a smile as he looked over at her again. "So you hadn't given up on me then."

She couldn't hold back her smile as she realized that he was right. "I guess not."

They fell silent for a while, continuing to watch everyone around them. The place was small, but it was more than enough for them to utilize while they rested up for a while. They needed to figure out their next move. Would it be Washington? Daryl could tell from Rick's face that he wasn't into the idea at all. He wondered how Sasha felt about it. "What you think of this whole DC thing?"

She let out a long, frustrated sigh as her eyes fell on Eugene and his group. "I don't know what to think, honestly. If he's telling the truth, we could actually save the world."

"But if he ain't…"

"We could die trying to get him there, for no reason."

He nervously bit at his bottom lip, trying to figure out the logic of this supposed scientist's plan. "If we're all infected, is it even possible to fix this?"

"I don't know." She slouched down so that she could rest her head on his shoulder, and then let her eyes fall closed. She was tired. "Maybe we all die anyway. Maybe we die trying to make something of this world."

He closed his eyes too, knowing he would sleep well for the first time since they'd lost the prison. "Maybe."

* * *

><p>Rick found himself watching Michonne from across the room. She looked happy, he noticed, sitting there laughing with Maggie and Bob. Considering everything they'd been through in the past 24 hours, it seemed insane to have anything to laugh about. Between Joe, Terminus, and Martin, it was a wonder they were still even standing. But that was the thing – they were still standing, and when he thought about it, that was certainly something to be happy about.<p>

When he finally caught her eye, he nodded towards the door with a playful smirk on his face. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if he was serious, but amusedly hopped up from her seat when she saw he was already headed for the exit. She thought he might've been avoiding her, for reasons she was unable to come up with, so she was glad to know it was just her imagination being overactive.

She found him standing on the church steps, seemingly staring into oblivion. "Hey, stranger."

"Hey, gorgeous," he turned to greet her, offering a grin that mostly showed in his eyes, and then grabbed her hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" she chuckled. It was dark and she didn't have her katana, which was not her favorite combination.

"Let's get lost tonight."

She smiled at his choice of words, and even the very idea, but she wasn't so sure that was the best course of action. "Rick, we can't just leave."

"Why not?"

"Because…"

He looked back at the church, fading into the distance the more they walked, and couldn't think of a single reason not to leave. Everything was finally fine again. "We've spent every second of the last few days worryin' about other people, Michonne. But our people are safe. My kids are goin' to bed on a full stomach with a roof over their heads. There's nothin' left to worry about. Let's take care of ourselves tonight."

She looked down at their intertwined hands, recalling how he'd let her go when she tried to hold onto him that morning. But he was right – they should enjoy this moment while they could. "Okay."

"All right?"

"So long as we don't get attacked by a gang of rapists again."

He shook his head, playfully annoyed by her statement. "I'm tryin' to take a romantic walk with you through the woods, but sure, let's bring that up again…"

"I'm kidding," she smiled, squeezing his hand. "I didn't realize this was about romance."

"Well that's 'cause you didn't let me get to that part." He stopped walking, causing her to do the same, and gave her a quick kiss. It was so soft, it felt like a butterfly against her lips, causing her to smile again.

"Mmmm," she sighed as they pulled apart. She ran a hand over his curls and then rested it on his face as she looked into his eyes. They were as dark as the sky in that moment. "If you really wanted to be romantic, you could've shaved, you know."

"I dunno," he replied as he felt his face as well. "I'm really startin' to like it."

"I'm starting to hate it."

"You know, Rosita told me it was badass, and I tend to agree with her."

"Rosita has spent the past three months with two men that have seriously questionable taste in body hair, so that makes sense."

He chuckled lightly as they continued their stroll. "You're better than this, Dillard."

"Okay, maybe it looks a little badass," she admitted hesitantly, smiling up at him. "And I might even like how it feels against my thighs. But it's hiding a very attractive face, and that's not okay."

He laughed louder this time, utterly amused by everything about her. "Is that right?"

"I think so. I almost remember what you looked like when I first came to the prison."

"Oh, you liked that look, huh?"

"Oh for sure. Crazy as hell and all." She wrapped her arm around his waist, letting one of her fingers hang from his belt loop as they walked. "Of course you're still crazy…"

"And more importantly, I'm okay with it."

"And most importantly, I quite like it."

"Which makes you equally as crazy," he grinned.

"Well I put my sword through someone today because they were talking too much, so I would say that's probably accurate."

"We both know that's not why you killed him. He was a threat, and he had to go."

"I keep telling myself that he wanted me to kill him, but… I think that's just to make myself feel better."

"Maybe he did," Rick offered diplomatically. He stopped at a giant boulder, deciding that would be a good place for them to hang out for a while. They could keep an eye out for their enemies, dead and alive, from up there. They quickly climbed the huge rock and got settled on their mini mountaintop, sitting as closely as they could while facing one another. "There you are," he smiled, finally catching her face in the moonlight. The night was beautiful and so was she.

"I never went anywhere," she grinned back. "I'm always with you, you know."

"I do," he nodded. "Even when you were runnin' off to look for The Governor, I knew that."

She rolled her eyes at the fact that he still considered it to be 'running off,' but she let it go for the sake of their conversation. "Good."

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" he chuckled uneasily.

"No…"

"I just saw you."

"It wasn't you," she shook her head absently as she glanced down at her feet, avoiding his gaze. "Just… ignore me."

"Hey." He wanted her attention, but she seemed to be stuck in her own head all of a sudden. "_Hey_," he said again. Shaking her thoughts away, she looked back up at him. "You okay?"

She nodded.

"What were you just thinkin' about?"

"I don't know. I guess it just bothers me a little that you don't understand why I was leaving." So much for saving their conversation.

"Michonne, I've told you a million times that I understood."

"And yet, you still consider it 'running off.' I haven't gone anywhere; I've been here for you, one hundred thousand percent, and still, you can't stop yourself from bringing up the fact that I left."

He frowned at her tone, confused by the sudden turn things had taken. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"I dunno," she conceded, leaning back so their faces weren't so close anymore. "Ignore me. I'm tired."

"Michonne…"

"Seriously. Just pretend I didn't say anything."

"I know it's been a rough couple of days. Which is saying a lot, considering. But if you got somethin' on your mind; if I've said or done anything to make you think I don't appreciate you, I need you to tell me."

"No," she shook her head adamantly. "Never once have I thought you ungrateful or anything like that."

"Then what?"

"I just wish you… knew me better, I guess. Or that we were closer…" She sighed. "I don't know what I'm trying to say."

"Well I wish you'd figure it out, 'cause you're kinda ruining our night out here," he joked.

She smiled in spite of herself and hit his leg playfully. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. I just wanna know what's bothering you."

"We don't have that much time," she winked.

"We've got all night, baby."

"Oh god," she giggled, more charmed by him than she ever wanted to be. She stared at him for a moment, wondering if he could handle what was really on her mind. "Gimme a kiss."

He narrowed his eyes at her, knowing she was avoiding something, but unsure of what it was. So he obliged with a kiss on her cheek, then her neck, finishing with a long one on her lips.

She sat on her knees in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "One more."

He went in for another one, letting his tongue roam into her mouth to do its usual dance with hers. His hands slowly unzipped her leather vest and then went up her shirt, freeing her breasts from the captivity of her bra. They were so plump and soft, he couldn't wait to have them in his mouth. "One more?" he asked, his lips already traveling across her collarbone.

She nodded, thrilled by the feeling of his tongue on her skin. She quickly felt her way through unbuckling his belt, grazing his already growing erection in the process. She realized she didn't need the foreplay; she just wanted him inside her as quickly as possible. "Come on," she whispered into his ear. "Fuck me."

_I don't need you, I don't need you, I don't need you, I don't need you  
><em>_But I want you  
><em>_I don't mean to, I don't mean to, I don't mean to, I don't mean to  
><em>_But I love you_

As their evening reached a climax, Rick tiredly fell beside Michonne on their boulder, licking his lips as he caught his breath. "God."

"You okay," she smirked, feeling sated as well. She could have fallen asleep right there next to him.

"I wish we could just do this, all the time."

"Really? Just this?"

"Just this," he sighed happily. "You are, by far, the best I've ever had."

She could only shake her head at the compliment. He said something to that effect nearly every time they had sex, and it never bothered her before. But now, it conjured up images of the guy she'd killed earlier that day, and she had to shake them away.

"I've missed this," he added, turning on his side to look at her.

She closed her eyes before speaking again. "What is this?"

"What?" he chuckled.

"What are we doing here, Grimes? Is this just sex, or…"

"Or… what?"

"I have to spell this out for you?"

He pulled up his pants and sat up, understanding that a serious conversation was back on the table. "It's not just sex," he promised genuinely. "I don't know what else it is, but it's not just that."

"Then why is it that we're still sneaking around like fifteen-year-olds?"

"I thought that was part of the fun," he defended, running his hand along her bare stomach.

"It's not fun anymore, Rick." She pushed his touch away and began to get dressed again. "When things were safe at the prison, and nothing was serious, sure. But shit got real, and it seems like all these catastrophic events should be bringing us closer. I feel like you're running away from me."

"I… don't know what to say," he admitted. "I mean, I don't wanna run away from you. But making this anything more than it is… I don't know how to do that."

"Why?"

"Scared…" He said it as if it were a question. As if he were wondering if that was a valid reason to keep someone at arm's length.

"I am, too. But I'm not your dirty little secret. I'm real. I have feelings. And some of them are for you."

"This isn't about keeping secrets, Michonne. I'm tryin' to protect you, and fourteen other people back there."

"Don't use them to justify this. You're trying to protect yourself."

He exhaled heavily as he tried to think before he spoke. This was obviously something that had been bothering her, while he'd done everything in his power to put it out of his mind. He couldn't afford to focus on this. On her. "I can't… be in love with you."

She could feel tears burning in her eyes, but she did her best to keep them from falling. "I'm not asking you to fall in love with me, Rick. I just want a definition. I wanna stop having to run to the woods to fuck you. I wanna be able to hold your hand in front of your son and you not look at me like I'm crazy."

"I get it," he promised. "I do. But I don't think you understand how… I mean, you've already crept in here," he tried to explain, with his fist over his heart. "And the further you get? The less I'm able to control my feelings? It terrifies me."

"And what if you're in mine, too?" She was powerless to stop her tears. She felt them roll down her face, which made her want to cry even harder. "Am I supposed to just ignore this? How do you do that?"

He shook his head in defeat. "I don't know. I didn't plan for this."

"I know you didn't." She wanted to understand so badly. And on a surface level, she did. But deep down, she knew that she wasn't alone in her feelings. The man that found her after the prison fell was a man that was in love. He was just too scared to actualize it. "But I wish you hadn't fucked with my feelings just because you're unsure of your own."

"I wish I hadn't either." He held his hand out, wanting to take hers, but she was the one to decline this time. "I hope you know I would never do anything to purposely hurt you."

"Of course I know that," she sniffled. "Which is what makes this even harder. I can't be mad at you for being scared."

"But you are."

"But I am."

He felt more helpless than ever. How is it that loving her would be their downfall? They were good together, and he knew that. He'd known that since their first time in the tombs, and it only got worse, and better, as time went on.

Hershel had warned him to be careful. _Be careful with lust_, is what he said. _Paired with good timing and a few sentimental words, it regularly transforms into love_. He also said that Rick would never find anyone better than Michonne to love. And Hershel was right. Hershel was always right. But how could he love her when the world wanted nothing but to take away everything he loved? "Michonne…"

"I'd like to be alone now," she declared softly, doing everything she could to avoid his gaze. She needed a minute to cry this one out.

"Yeah," he nodded in understanding. He pulled his gun from his holster, prepared to hand it over to her, but she immediately began to decline. "You shouldn't be out here without a weapon."

"Stop trying to save me, Rick." She wiped away her tears as she shook her head. "You can't be my Superman if I'm your kryptonite."

He didn't want to argue with her anymore. He'd done enough damage, he knew. So he simply hopped down from their mini-mountain and left her to her feelings.

His walk back to their camp was slow, his thoughts filled with questions about what their relationship would turn into. Could they still be friends? Would they be enemies? And what would her relationship with Carl turn into? He knew she wouldn't abandon him, but he also knew that things would inevitably change. He felt like he'd just agreed to a divorce.

_And though I don't need you, I don't need you, I don't need you  
><em>_I still want you  
><em>_I don't mean to, I don't mean to, I don't mean to, I don't mean to  
><em>_But I love you_

Just as he turned off of the road to head for the back of the church, he noticed a dark-colored Toyota go barreling past him, a simple white cross adorning its back window. It was certainly odd to see a car going so fast these days, but he thought little of it as he headed inside to check on his kids.

* * *

><p>Lyrics: "The Worst" - Jhene Aiko (Sail Out)<p> 


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